Essence Of The Heart
by restive nature
Summary: Sequel to Darkest Angel. Buffy has always known Connor. Connor has always remembered Buffy. How come no one remembers how?
1. Yearning

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R 

Disclaimers- I do not own Dark Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Angel the Series. They belong respectively to Cameron/Eglee and Joss Whedon. No profit is being made, unless you count hysterical giggling...

Summary-Sequel to "Darkest Angel". Buffy has always known Connor. And he's always remembered her. How come no one remembers how?

Distribution- Restive Nature (my site), Twisting The Hellmouth, Vampire Slayer Stevedore

Author's Notes- I suggest that you read "Darkest Angel" first, so that you know where this story picks up and what things transpired after Buffy defeated the First Evil. And for those of you with the same name as I've given for Max, well, I love these names…just not for her!

Chapter One

Yearning

"I want a baby," Buffy sighed quietly, her head resting on Spike's shoulder. They'd been sitting, somewhat uncomfortably in this pew for the last forty minutes. Normally they wouldn't have even bothered with being in a church, but they made the effort for Angel. It was his and Max's wedding day, at long last. Their daughter, Eva, was seven months old and Angel had been human almost as long. But still, it was a wedding and there were naturally delays. So, though they'd been running a little late, due to some unscheduled slayage, they were still in plenty of time for the nuptials. 

They'd slid into a pew a few rows back, on the groom's side. Not that sides really mattered as Max and Angel had mostly the same friends. But there were some people that Max knew from her time working as a bike messenger. And there were people that Angel met over the years through his job. They'd quietly greeted Kennedy and Dawn, and then Buffy glanced around for Giles. It wasn't until she caught sight of the woman in the front pew, holding Eva, that she realized her old mentor was preparing to walk his daughter down the aisle. The chasm that had appeared in their relationship after he'd gone back to England the first time, was nearly complete. Buffy had felt a little hitch in her chest as she contemplated this. She'd been the daughter he'd never had for so long, she didn't know how to be anything else. But as Giles had tried to point out to her, they no longer needed each other. 

Buffy had thought about that a lot. True, they didn't need each other in the physical sense that one needed air. But still, she wanted him in her life. He filled a void for her as well. And while she knew that Giles would never consciously shut her out completely, it felt that way more and more. It didn't help seeing Dawn here either. Boarding school had been wonderful for her, even though she'd complained at first. But she'd met new friends and didn't have to worry about evil things trying to slash her into portal opening pieces. But just to keep her kid sister from complaining, every time she visited, Buffy and Spike would take her out on patrol. Seeing her so happy, just illustrated to the petite Slayer how people were growing away from her. 

Normally, she'd have Willow or Xander beside her to comfort her. But Xander had felt the need to find himself after they lost Anya. She'd been the love of his life, until he'd walked away from her on their wedding day. They'd been working their way back to one another, until true life had interfered and Anya had sacrificed her life for another. So now, he was somewhere in Europe, learning to be the man that would have made the ex-vengeance demon even more proud. 

Willow was at the wedding. Except, she wasn't there in the role of Angel's ex-lover's friend. No, she was one of Max's bridesmaids. Somehow, Willow's research talents had brought the two women closer. Buffy felt the normal jealousy one always felt when one's best friend found someone else to hang out with. But she pushed it aside, because she could clearly see that they were more acquaintance friends than life-long, survived-fifty-apocalypses, some-of-which-I-may-have, oops-caused type of friends. Everything and everybody was moving away from her. Except Spike.

Spike had been sitting, fairly quiet for the most part, since they'd arrived. Every once in a while, he'd get the sudden urge to duck out for a fag. But once he'd become human again, that habit was quickly nipped in the bud. And not because Buffy was so opposed to it. No, it was for the simple fact that the Marlboro's that he'd once favored tasted so different to his human palette, that he'd nearly become sick. So out they went. He just wished he smoked in moments like this, simply for something to do with his hands. He watched as Angel and his groomsmen finally made their way out of an antechamber and brightened a little. Finally, the bloody ordeal was about to get started. 

Angel had approached Spike a few months back. Spike at first, had been on guard about what the topic might be. But after a few beers, Angel hesitantly brought up the subject of the wedding. Spike recalled how he'd almost frozen in shock; sure that Angel was going to ask him to be best man, or some other rot nonsense. But in fact, Angel had apologized for not choosing Spike as one. His reasons were that even though they had the longest history, there was just too much of it for either to be completely comfortable around each other. And Spike had laughingly agreed. Sure, they had things in common. But it was those very things that tore what could have been a friendship apart. So they were content in tolerating each other, recognizing that they were different people now. Spike pulled his attention back to the present when he heard Buffy murmur something. 

"What was that luv?" he asked softly, his head tilted down to hers. She wasn't looking up at him though. She was staring across the aisle at something and he followed her line of vision and smiled.

"I said I want a baby," she repeated herself. 

"Right now pet?" he teased. "I don't think Angel would be too impressed if we were to shag on his wedding day before he did, and in a church too." She poked him quickly in the ribs, trying to suppress a giggle and not quite making it. Angel heard and glanced over and frowned at them, making it tougher not to bust out laughing. Spike smiled apologetically at the other man, then turned Buffy's red face into his shoulder until she could compose herself. 

The wedding march preamble began before they could discuss the baby idea further. Not that it was being mentioned for the first time just now. The guests held their breath reverently as first Willow and then Fred and then Cordelia made their way slowly down the aisle. The collectively stood when Giles appeared, a radiant Max on his arm, the music swelling in perfect harmony. The couple had surprisingly gone the traditional avenue with their wedding. And Max made a stunning bride in her brilliant white gown, complete with a six-foot train. Buffy, like the other women around her, admired the beaded bodice that conformed nicely to her torso. The dress cut across her chest, leaving her shoulders bare, but hugging her arms down to points that lay below her wrists. Her lacy veil couldn't hide the beaming smile she directed towards her future husband. 

The crowd turned like a wave to follow her progress to the altar. The priest bade them sit and they did. Buffy barely paid attention to the ceremony. To her, it wasn't important. Max and Angel had made the commitment to each other already. The wedding was just a way of publicly declaring it. Not to say that she didn't want her own wedding one day. But, as she glanced up at Spike, she knew that it would happen when they were ready. They were still in the process of discovering themselves, apart and as a couple. They were content. But for that one little thing. 

She'd had friends and family for so long, that she didn't quite know how to function without them. Yet they were all moving on. But because she knew how important it was to live life, she let them. But that little platitude didn't ease the ache in her heart. Bits and pieces of the vows made their way into her consciousness, but more and more, she found her gaze being pulled towards that sweet little baby. 

Spike was fully aware of what had caught her attention. But he made no move to distract her from it. He wasn't at all opposed to the idea of their child. He'd pointed out to her though, the first time she'd brought it up, that it would probably be better if they were settled first. Running all over the world to put out evil-induced brushfires was not conducive to raising a child. Nor was trying to train Slayers, recruiting the new ones and trying to figure out what not to do with the new Watcher's council. And to top it all off, they still hadn't chosen one spot to settle in. Instead they had been living out of suitcases, on mostly borrowed funds, for over a year. Buffy had agreed with him, somewhat reluctantly, but had chosen not to make an issue out of it. 

He had to smile though, when it came time for Angel and Max to exchange their vows and rings. It still cracked him up when he thought back to Max's reaction to what the Sandeman had named her. He knew what it was like, to be saddled with a name that just wasn't really you. He wondered if she'd ever learn to accept it, as he had. He was learning to be at ease with William and Spike. He watched Angel make his vows and slip the ring onto Max's delicate hand. 

"And do you," the priest intoned, "Maxine Jennifer, take this man…" Astonishingly, Max managed not to flinch, which Spike thought admirable, but he grinned all the same. It just wasn't her, at all. 

The ceremony moved quickly after that. Angel kissed his bride, while tears of joy slipped from her eyes. It was enough to make Spike desperate for a cigarette, if only to purge himself of all this sappy romantic bilge. The priest had them sign their marriage certificate and then they were making their way up the aisle amidst the hearty applause. 

Cordy and Wes followed after them, beaming grins lighting their faces. Gunn and Fred walked a little more sedately, but no less happy. Finally came Connor and Willow. Willow waved at her friends, while Connor seemed to be searching for his girlfriend Alyssa's eyes. Once he'd found her, he smiled and winked at her. She was still seated, two pews ahead of Buffy and Spike. But as Connor turned his head back to the aisle, he caught sight of the petite blonde and the grin on his face widened even more. 

He mouthed the word 'hi' to her and even waved, a little embarrassed, but seemingly pleased. Buffy grinned back at him and waved as well. She felt Spike stiffen beside her but paid no mind. Giles had caught her attention. He was now carrying Eva, his granddaughter up the aisle, the woman who'd been tending her before at his left. She watched, a little wistful, as he never even seemed to notice her. 

He disappeared from her sight as the pews began to empty out and muted conversation struck up again. Buffy turned to gather her purse, finally noticing the scowl on Spike's face. "What's the matter?" she asked, sliding the strap up to rest comfortable on her shoulder. Spike didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his eye to watch as Alyssa made her way out to the aisle, followed by another couple. Once she was out of earshot, Spike turned back to his lover. 

"That little whelp was flirting with you," he growled in an undertone. "Right in front of me. And with his own girlfriend not a few feet away." Buffy tilted her head, puzzled as to which he meant, until she realized he'd caught her exchange with Connor. She liked this side of him, the sexy, growling, jealous side. 

"Don't be silly," she smiled. "I like you. Just you." She tilted he face up for a kiss. He obliged, but didn't seem to be letting this go. She caught his hand and turned to follow after Kennedy and Dawn. "Besides, I've known Connor since he was in diapers."


	2. Lukewarm Reception

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Two

Lukewarm Reception

The wedding party eventually moved on to the next step, which was the dinner and reception. They just had to wait for the very enthusiastic photographer to get all the photos he had promised in his package offer. The whole group suffered through it only because Cordy promised that he was an absolute genius. Luckily for them, Eva, who was in a few of the shots, didn't become cranky until they were in the car for the trip back to the Hyperion. 

The rest of the guests had followed directions and were greeted by the waiting Lorne. He'd helped Cordy with this part of the planning, as it was his specialty. Many of the guests were startled by his… unusual looks, but recovered themselves after spending a moment in his charming, engaging presence. Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Kennedy arrived together. They were all in awe as they entered the old building. They'd heard through the rumor mill of the revamping that was in process of the hotel. Or was it unvamping? But to see it was completely different. 

"I wonder how much cheddar Angel had to lay out?" Dawn gulped. She'd been to the Hyperion once or twice, never having much chance with school scheduling. But it had changed completely. All that remained of the hotel was the original structure. 

"Not one penny, dumpling," Lorne chuckled as he came to greet the group. "This was all Max's doing." Dawn blushed at her faux pas. Even as curious as she was, she knew that questioning someone's financial state, even a friend was not good manners.

"I didn't know Max was rich," she blurted out, then slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. "I'm sorry. Forget I said that."

"It's okay nibblet," Spike assured her. "I think we all thought it."

"Actually," Lorne drawled, "my little angelcake has quite the talent for gambling," he shared conspiratorially. Spike's eyes lit up.

"Does she now?" he queried with a grin.

"Yep," Lorne nodded. "Took a little trip to Vegas we did. A nice vacation. She made us all a little richer."

"Maybe I'll have to have a little talk with her," Spike mused, only to feel the sharp elbow of his lover in his side. 

"I don't think so Spike," she shook her head, good-naturedly. "You already have enough bad habits."

"An' gamblin's one of 'em," he protested. 

"I'd say you already hit the jackpot baby," Lorne crowed, with a wink for Buffy. She smiled again, then tugged on her boyfriend's arm. Kennedy had already moved into the lobby, snagging a glass of champagne and was taking in the new décor. Lorne turned to greet some more people and the trio followed after Kennedy. Spike handed Buffy some champagne, then grabbed a glass for himself. Dawn looked expectantly at him, but with a small grin, he shook his head.

"Oh come on Spike," Dawn whined. "Just one glass?"

"No pet," Spike sighed. "Your sis would hang me," he muttered, glancing towards Buffy. She was still taking in the changes to the hotel and waiting for Willow to show up. 

"Jeez Spike, its no big deal," Dawn huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "In a few days I'll be eighteen. That's legal in Canada, you know?"

"But we're not in Canada, are we?" he replied smugly. He could almost feel a headache coming on. He'd always been Dawn's co-conspirator, but things between them to where he was taking on the role of protective big brother more and more. 

"She's right," Buffy murmured, finally turning back to them. "One glass of champagne is no big deal," she continued. "You can have a glass." Dawn squealed and clapped her hands quickly. "But why don't you wait until later, when everyone's making toasts?" she suggested. Dawn nodded quickly, not wanting Buffy to change her mind. She hurried off to go mingle. 

"So what's Dawnie all excited about?" a perky voice asked from behind them. Buffy and Spike turned to see that the wedding party had arrived at last. Buffy smiled widely as she embraced her best friend. 

"Hey Wills," she greeted cheerfully. She pulled back; admiring how great her friend looked in her bridesmaid's dress. The last time they'd been in this position, the dresses were much more…neon glowy. "Oh, you know Dawn. What isn't she excited about?"

"Oh, I see your point," Willow chuckled. Buffy noticed her glancing about nervously. She turned her own head, looking in Kennedy's direction. She jerked her chin in her friend's girlfriend's direction. Willow followed her line of sight and sighed audibly. 

"What's the matter Willow?" Buffy asked softly, glancing at Spike meaningfully. He gave them a half-smile and moved off to find someone to torment. Once he was out of earshot, she continued. "Is it Kennedy?"

"Kind of," Willow shrugged. She seemed to deflate a little under her friend's knowing look. "Well, it's just, we haven't really been connecting lately. I mean, yeah in the physical sense, but not in the sit down and talk our day over type of connecting. And the bossiness factor, kinda getting off the scale. I mean, I don't mind a take charge gal. Wouldn't have you for a best friend if I didn't. But I don't want to be told what was going to happen or where we're going all the time…"

"Want to wear the britches in your relationship, huh?" Buffy teased, although she understood completely. 

"No, no pants for me," Willow denied. Then rolled her eyes as Buffy giggled. "You know what I mean. I'm just starting to think that me and Kennedy, we aren't making the kind of sense we used to."

"I know Will," Buffy reassured her, squeezing her hand in comfort. 

"But hey!" Willow smiled. "Enough of that. This is supposed to be a happy day."

"Yes it is," Buffy agreed. 

Spike meanwhile, had finally honed in on the bride. She'd been greeting her guests, explaining that Angel was settling their daughter in. Of course, a few minutes after that, Angel had reappeared, child in tow. He'd handed Eva off to Max with an apologetic smile as the child fussed in her mother's arms. He wrapped one arm around he waist and smiled down at the child as Max soothed her easily. Spike paused, watching them. He felt a small pang of jealousy in his chest. Not caused by their obvious display of love, but their solidarity, their togetherness. They already knew who they were and where they were going.

It felt as if he and Buffy had been struggling with that very issue for years now. And honestly, they had. Back in the day, before his soul, before her death, they'd been working towards this. Separately then, they'd always been trying to find themselves. Find a place in the world. And even now, knowing who and what they were, it still felt like they were struggling. And Spike couldn't understand why. It should have been simple. They were human, they were Slayers and they loved each other. With a sigh, Spike exchanged his empty glass for a full one. Now was the time for merriment, not introspection. And what better way than greeting the bride, whose bridegroom had just slipped from her side?

"Congratulations, Maxine," Spike drawled teasingly. Max responded with a casually raised eyebrow.

"Thank you William," she responded gently. She rearranged her daughter on her hip, then smiled back up at him. "You know, Angel told me all about how you got your nickname."

"Did he now?" Spike refrained from grimacing.

"Mm hmm," she nodded, "and if you ever call me by that name again, you'll find out what fun I can have with a glass tube, a hammer and your dick!" she proclaimed gaily. His eyes widened in shock and he visibly paled as the implication of her words made their way through his stunned mind. Then he threw his head back and roared. She was a spitfire! Angel had done well. She was definitely a girl after his own heart. But it was to his utter surprise when she unceremoniously handed him her daughter. The laughter stopped as he quickly adjusted the squirming child in his grip, while trying not to drop his glass.

"What's this?" he spoke softly, grinning down at the little girl. He set his glass down on a nearby table, and hoisted her up higher in his arms. One hand stole up to caress the soft brown baby curls that covered her head. Before he could stop her, Eva had centered on his bright blue tie and was furiously grabbing at it. She had a strong grip, but luckily was more interested in gumming the tie than strangling her fathers ex-arch-enemy. "Oy! She's droolin'."

"I know," Max shrugged, then glanced down at her dress. "Better on you than me," she grinned. Spike rolled his eyes. Angel returned then, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. Spike handed the baby over a little reluctantly. No one could say that he didn't like kids. But Eva had different ideas. She refused to let go of her new toy. Spike was about to remove the tie, welcomed the chance even, but Angel waved him off. 

"She's teething," he explained, distracting the girl with an obviously familiar icy cold teething ring. "But ties aren't good for her." At Spike's amused expression, Angel went slightly defensive. "Well, they're not. She could choke…"

"It's not that Peaches," Spike chuckled. "Look at you, handin' out advice on the little 'uns." Angel grinned, Spike grinned, Eva teethed and Max sighed. 

"I'm going to go find Dad," Max muttered, dropping a kiss on her daughter's head, then lifting her cheek for her husband. She turned to Spike. "And you, remember what I said." She glared a moment, then whirled around to the best of her ability in her heavy gown. Angel watched her walk away, then turned back to the bleached blonde

"What did she say?" he asked curiously. Spike eyed him, then turned to retrieve his champagne.

"Believe me Peaches, you don't want to know," he quipped as he turned to find someone new to continue what he did best. 

Buffy and Willow had had a quick heart to heart before Cordelia summoned the redhead for bridesmaid's duties. So Buffy was left by herself to watch idly as people she did not or barely knew whirled by her. She finally caught sight of Giles and was about to intercept him, but his daughter caught him first. Buffy slowed to a stop, then backed off from them. Part of her mind warred within her that she had just as much right to Giles that Max did. But the other part registered that this was a special day for them both. It wasn't as if Giles was going anywhere. So she returned to her solitary post at the edge of the room, watching and wondering where her friends were. 

"What's got you so down in the mouth?" a soft voice whispered in her ear. Buffy squealed, startled by the suddenness of that voice. She spun around with a grin on her face. 

"Connor!" she laughed. She reached up to hug him around the neck as his arms slid around her waist in a gesture old and comfortable to them both. 

"Hey Buff," he laughed. She pulled back from him, then took in his attire.

"Looking good Connor," she complimented him easily. "Of course, you look pretty good in whatever you choose."

"Just like you Buffy," he returned. "Like tonight. You look wonderful."

"Thanks," she smiled shyly, then looked around for his girlfriend. "So how's…?"

"Alyssa?" he provided. "She's doing good. How's…?"

"Spike?" she chuckled. "Same as always. So, how's school going? It is school, right?"

"Yeah, criminology," he enthused. "Doing great. How's uh… uh?"

"Don't worry,' Buffy grinned. "I'm still out of work and still okay with it."

"Yeah, right," Connor nodded his head enthusiastically. He noticed Alyssa gesturing him over, and Buffy saw Spike heading her way. With a grin, they stepped around each other, making their way to their respective partners, neither realizing just how stilted and awkward their conversation had been. Spike wasn't quite wearing the expression he had on earlier at the chapel. The one that spoke of wanting to warn off an encroaching male, preferably by ripping said male's arms off and beating him with them, but it was close enough. 

"So, the whelp again?" he sighed theatrically. Buffy giggled. 

"I told you," she protested softly. "It's just Connor. We were just catching up with each other."

"I can see that," Spike grinned, not really worried. The boy seemed fairly devoted to his own girlfriend. And he'd heard Willow comment on the boy's manners. But if he didn't have something to tease Buffy about, what on earth would become of them. "Just remind me to get a stick to beat the rest of these blokes off you," he chuckled. 

"Spike," she sighed, then pulled him towards the now free ex-Watcher Giles. "Really, Connor is a good kid. I've known him since he was in diapers."

"So I've heard," Spike muttered under his breath. Then a little more loudly, not wanting to upset her, asked, "so what's his last name?" Buffy stopped short, absolutely befuddled. What was Connor's last name?


	3. With This Gift Comes Love

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Three

With This Gift Comes Love

The evening had been a long one and it was to Buffy's utter relief that Angel had offered them one of the many refurbished rooms of the hotel. She slipped inside, Spike close behind her. Dawn had already been sent to bed and was residing next door to them, with Willow and Kennedy on her other side. The teen had made the most out of her solitary glass of champagne and had danced the evening away with a steady stream of guys. Buffy had been torn between warning them off and letting her sister enjoy herself. Spike was in the same boat, but he saw quickly how well Dawn had handled herself. So they let her be, finally catching her after about one in the morning and carefully suggesting that she pack it in. After all, the celebration would continue in the morning for a select group.

Buffy yawned as she contemplated the forthcoming activities. There was a lavish breakfast for all the guests staying at the hotel. Then Max and Angel would be opening their gifts. Which Buffy figured would take up most of the morning and part of the afternoon, as there were tons of them. After that was sorted out, the couple would be leaving with their daughter for a three month long honeymoon to the British Isles. Most people expected them to head for a tropical getaway, but Buffy understood that Angel wanted to visit his homeland. And Max was certainly agreeable. 

"Tired luv?" Spike asked as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the sofa. She simply nodded. She pulled up her hair and presented her back to him. With ease, he gently lowered the zipper of her dress for her, placing an affectionate kiss at the nape of her neck. She shivered a little as the cool air caressed her skin. She dropped her hair and slid the straps of the dress from her arms, turning as she did so. 

"What happened to your tie tonight?" she asked playfully. It was a chore getting him to willingly dress up. And she knew that he only did so for her. The tie was one that she had chosen as it mirrored the wealth of color in his eyes. With a mischievous grin, he reached over to his coat pocket and extracted it. He held it up for her inspection.

"The little nipper tried to take a piece out of it," he chuckled. Buffy grimaced at the damp end. 

"Eva's got good taste," she sighed. At least it wasn't damaged irreparably. She'd had to scrape together the cash to purchase it. She removed her own dress then carried it over to the closet to hang up. It would have to be dry-cleaned, but that didn't mean she wanted to just leave it lying around. "I noticed you holding her earlier," she mentioned. 

"She's a sweet l'il bit," he smiled, thinking back on the rightness of her weight in his arms. He had finally slid all the buttons free on his shirt and let it hang loose as he moved towards his lover. His arms encircled her from behind, his hands rubbing across the satiny fabric of her little white slip. "And you know," he drawled in her ear, "it got me to thinking." Buffy stiffened in his arms, holding the breath that suddenly seemed so loud in the rushing of her ears. Dare she hope that he was going to say what she thought he was going to say?

"Thinking what?" she managed to croak out. Spike rested his chin on her shoulder as his hands continued to rub across her stomach in tiny circles. 

"I'm thinking, that I'd still like us to be settled," he grinned as she tensed even more. "I'd like us to have a place to live, money to support ourselves. But I'm also thinking, that even if you were to get pregnant tonight, that's still give us months to sort it all out." He loosened his grip as she squirmed, letting her turn around in his embrace. She rested her hands on his chest, leaning back a little to look up at him.

"Spike, are you serious?" she gasped. They'd talked this over so many times. She knew that he wasn't unwilling, just that he was trying to be practical and look at the whole picture. He nodded an enchanting glint in his eyes. "Tonight?" He nodded again. Buffy felt a little surge of lust through her, fueled by the natural emotion she felt when contemplating the natural act she'd originally been designed for. Having a child. Having Spike's child. She calculated swiftly in her mind. She was still a few days off in her cycle for maximum potency, but that wouldn't harm anything. 

"So how about it?" he whispered against her skin as his lips caressed the sensitive area of her collarbone. "Does baby want to have my baby?" Buffy couldn't contain herself. She jumped slightly, wrapping her legs around his waist. He caught her as she began to rain kisses down upon his face. She was grinning like a mad woman. "I'll take that as a yes, then?" He began to shuffle towards the bed as she pushed the shirt further off his chest, words no longer necessary. The anticipation glowing in her eyes told Spike that their night was going to be a lot longer than he'd anticipated. Not that he minded. _'Oh well,'_ he thought with a mental shrug. _'They could always skip the breakfast in the morning.'_

Buffy was bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning. Even though she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep, she still felt better than she had in a long time. She'd slipped from their bed, giving Spike a peck on the cheek as she hurried to the shower. She was ravenously hungry and wondered what was on the menu. Even so, she lingered in the shower, enjoying the heated water playing over her body. Only when she recalled that she was in a fairly full hotel with other guests wanting the same luxury, did she get out. She wasn't sure about the capabilities of the water heaters here yet and figured that Spike would probably want a turn as well. If he ever got up. She was fully dressed, in a casual sundress by the time he managed to lift his head wearily from the burrow of blankets and pillows.

"Bloody hell woman," he groaned with a half smile. "How the hell can you not be tired after last night?"

"Residual sexual energy?" she teased, perching on the edge of the bed. 

"Really?" he grunted, then pulled the blanket away from his face. "Share then?" Buffy giggled, leaning over to give him a kiss. She pulled back, but he followed, craning his neck until it became too much and his head fell back to the bed with a soft noise. "Oy," he grumbled as she remained just out of reach. "That's not playing fair Slayer."

"And since when have you ever played fair?" she countered. He rolled his eyes, but the look soon changed to tenderness as his hand stole out to caress her leg.

"So?" he wondered, "do you suppose we…?" Buffy glanced down at her stomach, knowing what he meant. 

"Probably not," she shrugged. "Even though we may have set a record. I think my body will be ready in a few days." She paused as he nodded, taking that in. "But it sure was fun trying."

"Practicing luv," he grinned. His hand continued to stroke her leg. "Cor, I'm gonna love seeing you get all big and round and soft."

"Hey, I'm soft already," she protested mockingly. 

"Softer then," he amended. She leaned over to kiss him again, staying longer this time. 

"Speaking of getting big," she paused to waggle her eyebrows at him, "my tummy is in desperate need of food. It needs a fill up. I'm going to get some. You going to come with?"

"Spoilsport," he groaned, dropping his hand from her thigh. He yawned once more. "Nah. If you're not gonna stay and play, maybe I'll get some more sleep."

"All right," she nodded. "See you downstairs then." He was already burrowing back under the covers as she slipped from the room, only to bump into someone else. She looked up and grinned. "Hey Wills."

"Oh, hi Buffy," the redhead greeted her friend. Buffy looked closely, noticing the pale features of her best friend. And somehow, she didn't think the circles under her eyes were the result of the long night. Her great mood was dimmed a little as she contemplated her best friend's plight. She caught the furtive glance back along the hallway and knew then that the trouble stemmed from girlfriend problems.

"You okay Willow?" she asked solicitously. The other woman nodded, resigned. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hide this from Buffy, but she wasn't really up to discussing it in the middle of the hallway. It seemed that her friend understood as she took her arm and led her down the hallway. "Don't worry," she offered placatingly. "It'll work itself out, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. One way or another, she'd get through this. That was part of the problem. The thought of simply getting through a break-up with Kennedy wasn't as painful as all her other getting throughs had been. Maybe there just wasn't enough there to care about anymore. Before she could continue down that lane of thought though, she keenly changed the subject. "So what are you so perky about this morning?" She grinned as she glanced back at the room Buffy had just come from. "As if I had to ask."

Buffy grinned at the thought of sharing her news with her best friend. She did consider for a moment, keeping this news to herself. But her closest friends knew of her greatest desire to date and were heartily approving of the endeavor, Willow foremost among them. Well, right after Dawn. The teenager was especially keen to become an aunt and have the title of "youngest-must-be-protected" passed on. "Well," she began, trying to hold back the delirious grin; "Spike and I decided last night to start trying."

"What?" Willow shrieked. There were muffled protests from behind closed doors at the amount of volume she put into her surprise and she clapped a hand over her mouth in consternation. With her other hand, she squeezed Buffy's hand. "Oh, I'm so happy for you guys," she sniffed as tears gathered in her eyes. They hugged quickly, but Willow pulled back, a little puzzled. "But I thought Spike wanted to wait?"

"That's what I thought too," Buffy admitted. "But he got to thinking about it."

"What changed?"

"Eva," she replied enigmatically. "And the fact that he finally cottoned on to the fact that babies take a while to arrive."

"Well good for him," Willow bounced along excitedly. This was much better news than she'd figured on. At least someone was happy, aside from the proverbial happy couple. They made their way down to the fantastic buffet spread that had been laid out before Buffy noticed that Willow had been clutching an envelope in her hand. She mentioned it as Dawn hurried over to them. 

"What's that Will?" she pointed to the paper even as Dawn grabbed their hands and began pulling them towards the table she'd been seated at. 

"Letter from Xander," she chuckled. "Thought you might like to read it."

"I got one a few weeks ago," Dawn preened. "He always writes to me."

"Good for you Dawnie," Buffy remarked dryly. She smiled as she sat down. Dawn had already filled plates for them, knowing how legendary her sister's appetite could be after all nighters… of various kinds. "Thanks," she mumbled around a bite of quiche. Willow handed the letter over and dug into her own plate of food. Buffy perused the letter as she ate, smiling at her friend's little quips and the description's of all his activities. A letter from Xander never failed to make her smile, then miss him terribly. And today was no exception. She passed the letter on to Dawn and turned to Willow. "He sounds like he's doing better."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. Neither of them had thought that it would take Xander this long to get over Anya. But considering how they reacted when they lost loved ones, this was actually an amazingly healthy response. "Oh, you should see what Xander got Max and Angel!" Buffy nearly dropped her fork.

"Xander got Angel a present?" she was dumbfounded. Never had any sign of affection passed from one to the other. They'd only tolerated each other for her sake. Willow nodded as she took another bite. 

"It's absolutely gorgeous," she continued. "He asked me to pick it up at customs and we had to check and make sure it didn't break." Spike finally strolled up to them, unable to sleep after Buffy had left. He glanced down at his dumbstruck girlfriend.

"What's the matter luv?" he asked, frowning slightly. If he went by the look alone, he'd swear that another apocalypse was on its way.

"Xander got Angel a present," she blurted out. He grinned, understanding why she was so shocked. 

"Hey, I got the poofter a present," he protested, "and I don't see you acting all put out."

"We got him a gift," she growled, stressing the _'we'_. "And I'm not put out. I'm just surprised is all."

"I don't see why," Dawn huffed. "Xander can be really sweet and mature… when he wants to be."

"Those're the optional words, huh nibblet?" Spike laughed. He bent down to kiss Buffy's forehead, then moved off to find a plate of food for himself. 

After the guests had more or less sated themselves on the morning feast, the select few who were invited moved off with the O'Connor's for the gift opening. Dawn was looking forward to it, as she couldn't wait to see all the gifts. She was still a child in some respects, despite what she wanted everyone to believe. Everyone was touched though, when they finally came to Xander's gift. Angel had pulled open the card and read it through silently, then handed it to his wife, a slightly suspicious misty look on his face. Max read it quickly, then with a smile, read it aloud for the group's benefit.

"This gift is for a woman I've never met," she smiled, "but have heard many wonderful thing about. And it is for her husband, a man I barely know. I had the chance, but I didn't take it. I hope that one day, that chance will still be there. So, with this gift comes love and respect and admiration of the courage it took to embark upon the most wonderful adventure that will ever come your way. Congratulations for your wedding and the best wishes for the journey ahead. Love Xander Harris."

There were many bleary eyes among the room. No one said anything for a moment until Giles sniffled. "I never knew Xander could be so eloquent."

"I did," Cordy reminisced with a sad smile. "Well," she glanced at the couple, "come on, I want to see what he got you." With a burst of laughter at her pointedness, the couple unwrapped the gift. There was plenty of awe and a satisfied look on Willow's face as the paper fell away to reveal the hand-blown glass vase. But it was more than just that. Xander had had it personally made. With full color, it depicted a slim tree trunk, with two dark haired lovers peeking around the base at each other, their hands joined, smiles on their tiny faces. Cordy sniffled once. "Oh, that's so beautiful."

"Yeah," Angel nodded, resting his head on Max's. "It is." More important to him than the gift, was the sign of acceptance from the other man.


	4. Dreams Coming True

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Four

Dreams Coming True

Angel caught Buffy's eye not long after the last gift was opened. He jerked his head to the side, silently asking to talk to her for a minute. She nodded, then squeezed Spike's hand that was dangling over her shoulder. "I'm going to go talk to Angel for a second sweetie," she smiled up at him. He just nodded, having seen Angel's actions and took another sip of the coffee he was holding. As he watched her walk to the other side of the room, he noticed the newest whelp in his life, Connor. While Buffy was away, he could play. 

"You look happy," Angel smiled down at her as she made her way to his side. Buffy couldn't refute his statement, having caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror earlier. 

"I am," she agreed, the grin broadening. "I really, really am. For the first time in a long time." She paused and glanced back at Max, who was conversing with Cordy. She had a matching grin on her face. "I don't even think I need to ask how you and Max are. It's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, it is," Angel sighed, glancing at his wife of less than twenty-four hours. He turned back to his ex-lover. "Who ever thought it would end up like this?"

"I did," Buffy giggled. "Not this exact moment. But I knew that happiness was out there, waiting for us."

"You did?" Angel teased. "Is that why you were so angry all the time?" She smacked him once on the arm, pleased with the small 'ouch' he gave. 

"No, seriously Angel, it was something I had to relearn after the whole Heaven thing," she explained. At her words his face became serious. It was rare for her to talk about the experience with him, always fearing that she was hurting him by illustrating the differences in their nature. He was sent to Hell, she to Heaven. But he'd always known in some part of him that he never examined that that was where she would one day belong. "For so long, I felt dead inside still. I had to remember that happiness isn't something that pounces on you. You have to take chances on opportunities. That's the only way to get what you want."

"Well said," he murmured. "Did you learn anything else when you were there?"

"You mean besides the obvious?"

"The obvious?" the puzzled look on his face was so familiar, she almost burst out laughing right there. 

"Yeah," she spoke slowly, "you know, what God looks like."

"You saw God?" he was incredulous. She couldn't stand it any longer and the laughter flowed.

"No silly," she guffawed. There were many special faces that she knew up there, but that was not among them. "I didn't. What I meant was the obvious lesson that there is love for everybody. There is a love waiting for each of us, if we just have the courage to find it. I think once I finally remembered that, then it was possible for me to take a chance on loving Spike."

"You didn't want to?" he probed, unsure how she meant it. Over the last few years, he'd been able to take a long hard look at what their relationship had been. What Buffy and Spike's relationship was and his own and Max's. Of the three, he understood why the young love they had shared was doomed. The relationship's they had now dealt with the bleak periods in their lives and weathered the storm. He and Buffy hadn't done that. They'd scurried from one another. They never learned how to weather things and that's part of the reason why they hadn't lasted. 

"Oh, I wanted to," she assured him, glancing back at her boyfriend. "I just had to get past certain issues." She didn't give voice to them because it was like beating a dead horse. They were past that now. "And look at us, could we get any sappier?"

"Nope," he chuckled. "We're the sappiest." He snapped his fingers suddenly, as he recalled why he'd called her over. "Oh, Giles."

"Giles is sappy?" she narrowed her eyes. 

"He can be," Angel quipped. "Actually, he had to make a phone call, but he needs to talk to you."

"So that's where he disappeared to," she nodded. "I tried to talk to him last night. But obviously I didn't try very hard. Should I go up now?"

"Probably," he confirmed. "I think he has a surprise for you," he grinned, already privy to the secret. 

"Ooh, surprises good," she almost squealed. "What is it?"

"You'll have to ask him," Angel laughed. He noticed Max gesturing to him. He acknowledged her with a tilt of his chin. "Oh, and Buffy, you, Spike and Dawn are more than welcome to stay at the hotel as long as you like," he offered magnanimously. "Not that you might need to," he muttered under his breath, but knowing she would her him.

"What does that mean?" she demanded suspiciously. He shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, wife is calling me," he grinned and bolted away. She stared after him, their good moods having bolstered each other. She glanced back to where she'd been sitting with Spike. He wasn't there now and Dawn and Willow were engaged in animated conversation. She figured she'd better go talk with Giles while it was fresh in her mind. 

She found his room easily, mostly by the door hanging ajar and his excited voice. She knocked softly and the door swung open. He was pacing the room, between the bed and the dresser, carrying clothes with the cordless phone pressed against one ear. "Yes, that would be fine," he agreed to whomever he was talking with. "All right," he paused to wave Buffy in. "Thank you very much." He ended the call and let the pone fall to the bed. "Hello Buffy," he greeted cheerfully.

"Going somewhere?" she asked softly, a little disappointed. She'd just arrived yesterday and he was leaving today. It hardly seemed fair to her. 

"England," he confirmed, resuming his packing. "Just got off the phone with the airline."

"How long will you be gone?" she gulped. She'd been looking forward to spending a little time with him. 

"Uh, I'm not certain," he sighed. "I do have some good news though." He pushed aside a stack of shirts so that she could be seated on the end of the bed. 

"Angel said you had a surprise for me," she grinned. 

"Y-yes," he seemed caught off guard. "Well, I-I'll come to that in a moment. You do know that one of the standard policies for Watcher's with no families was to bequeath their wealth to the council, should some ill befall them?"

"No, I didn't know that," Buffy shook her head, suddenly wondering what this had to do with her. Had someone bequeathed her something? Another thought occurred to her. "Hey, didn't your will state that your stuff was supposed to go to Dawn and I?"

"Rule doesn't apply to active Watcher's," he explained with a grin. He sobered again. "The whole purpose of that was to keep the potentially dangerous artifacts and books from becoming public knowledge. Many Watchers' with families even signed over the majority of their lucre to the council. And finally, after these past few years, the lawyers assigned to handle the probate have sorted everything out."

"What does that mean?" she asked, still wondering how this applied to her. 

"It means simply, that everything is ready to go where it is supposed to go," Giles reiterated. Buffy rolled her eyes. "The books and artifacts will be transported to the New Watcher's council headquarters to be sorted. Property is being assayed. The money and stocks, going into their respective accounts."

"And this has to do with me because why?" she frowned. With a huge grin, and all the pomp of a stage magician, Giles produced a long, thick white envelope from nowhere. He handed it to Buffy, who took it skeptically. "This is my surprise."

"Yes it is," Giles grinned. "Go on, open it up. I think you'll like it." He paused as she tore open the sealed flap and withdrew the folded sheaf of papers. She unfurled them, her eye catching her name in bold print. She scanned the document once, then again with dazed eyes. "You see," Giles continued, "Alfred Wolfsham liked to keep a house wherever he had frequent business. And as this was the last city he contracted in, he naturally had no chance to dispose of it before his unfortunate accident."

"Giles," Buffy breathed, still staring down at the papers. "It's in my name. This deed is in my name."

"Well of course," he rolled his eyes affectionately. "You certainly can't move into someone else's house." He could say no more as she launched herself at him. He barely managed to brace himself as he arms flew around his neck. A grunt escaped him as she gave in to the giddiness that had been building up in her. "Air Buffy!" he quickly reminded her. She let loose and sat back, awe covering her face. 

"But how?" was all she could think of.

"Mmm," Giles mused, relishing that his surprise had gone over so well. "The newer council members agree with me that it was prudent for you and Spike as well as Faith and Robin to have a base of operations. You'll still be required to move about somewhat, but as we get girls trained and sent off, it won't occur as much."

"Faith and Robin get a house as well?" Buffy asked with a grin. Every once in a while, she missed her longtime sister slayer. Not much, just a little. 

Giles nodded, "yes, I was hoping to tell her as well. It's a shame she was injured so close to the wedding. At least it wasn't overly serious. I suppose I shall have to make a pit stop in Denver to inform them. Perhaps when I return from England…" he thought aloud. 

"So I still don't get why you're going to England," Buffy interrupted his train of thought. 

"Oh, er, sorry," Giles smiled. "I'm to be part of the team researching the artifacts. Basically a lot of chanting, throwing sand, say a magic word and see if it's enchanted or not. The mundane will be put up for auction, the enchanted will move on to the next series of research. And hopefully, when we are done, I'll have another surprise for you and Spike."

"Another?" Buffy squealed. "What?" At the stern glare she received, she sighed. "I know, no telling of surprises to the Buffy cause then it wouldn't be a Buffy-Surprise!"

"Er, precisely," he agreed. He rose and began to pack again. "So, about the house. It's yours to do with, as you like. Completely furnished. You can keep it, or sell it and buy something else."

"Completely furnished?" Buffy's jaw dropped. "How many rooms?" 

"It's not large," Giles shrugged. "Three bedrooms upstairs plus bath," he paused a moment to recall. "Kitchen, dining room, half bath and living room on the main floor. And the basement is done. Sounds about right for a young couple."

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "Just perfect." She glanced up at him. "Thank you so much Giles. You don't know how worried Spike and I have been about this. And especially since Dawn is out of school now. At least until college starts…"

"Think nothing of it Buffy," he ducked his head. "I was just the bearer of glad tidings."

"Bear or not, I'm glad you're in my life Giles," she wrapped her arms around him once more. He responded in kind, pleased to see his other girl so happy. With a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle, she pulled back. "So, what time is your flight?"

"Six o'clock tonight," he answered quickly. "So, if you'll let me finish my packing, then I'll be able to spend some time visiting before I must go." Buffy nodded with a grin.

"Sounds good," she agreed. "I have to go find Spike any way." With that, she hurried from the room, feeling as if she were walking on a floating cloud. Her day just could not get any better!


	5. A Talk With The Boy

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Five

A Talk With The Boy

Spike watched carefully for the moment when he could approach Connor. He found it odd that in all the years he'd known Buffy and Dawn, they'd never once mentioned Connor. Sure, there were names they said, family members, old friends, but not once had his name been among them. Yet Buffy claimed to have known him since he was a baby. And given that Connor was here now and a part of Angel's wedding party, had to indicate that she'd introduced them. It grated a little on Spike's nerves that he didn't rate as high as Angel did on the friend's meter. 

So he watched and studied. And couldn't come up with much beside the obvious. Connor was a moderately handsome kid and seemingly devoted to his own girlfriend. They were hugging right now. That was all Spike could deduce. He still didn't even know the kid's last name. When he'd asked Buffy the evening before, she'd paused, as if lost in thought and then they'd been interrupted and she'd never answered him. Perhaps now was the time to remedy that. Spike made his way to the corner the couple was in, pasting a charming, cocky grin on his face. He wasn't jealous. Oh no, not by a long shot. He already knew that he had Buffy's love and affection. And if watching her ex-lover wed only reinforced it, then he knew he had nothing to worry about from the kid. So he wasn't jealous. Curious, that was the word. Never mind that it killed the cat. 

There wasn't much about Buffy's life that he didn't know about by now. They'd done the sharing thing. Although Buffy had shared a lot more than he had, for the simple fact that her childhood years were a lot more recent than his had been. He even knew about things from Red's and the Whelp's past. More than he'd like to sometimes, but when Buffy got to chatting about things, sometimes you couldn't shut her up. And Dawn wasn't one to undershare either. Sometimes he shuddered to think what they might share about him when he wasn't around. 

Connor glanced up from Alyssa as he heard someone approach. They'd just been discussing their summer vacation plans. Alyssa was going home to visit her family in North Dakota. Connor was making similar plans, though he didn't have to travel so far. But aside from that and work, he had nothing pressing on him. He smiled when he realized it was Buffy's boyfriend sauntering over. He glanced past the man, but didn't see her behind him. A quick look off to the side revealed his friend to be talking to Angel. He was still a little stunned that Angel and Buffy knew each other, until Max had explained that Angel used to live in that little town, Sunnydale for a few years. Connor straightened up in his seat. 

"Hey man," he greeted casually, thrusting out his hand. "You're Spike, right?"

Spike took the proffered hand and shook it politely. "Yeah, Spike Worthington," he almost cringed as he'd said it. Dawn had chosen it for his surname after she caught him meeting with an ID fence. She'd then told everyone and it had been a little bit of a joke between the group. 

"Spike huh?" Alyssa smiled. "Let me guess, high school nickname of the intriguing sort?" Spike grinned.

"Something like that," he chuckled. "M'first name's really William." There was a mild snort from Connor's part.

"Well nice to meet you at last William Worthington," Alyssa giggled, shaking his hand as well. "That's almost poetic sounding. I'm Alyssa Richards by the way." He nodded and gave her his best little boy look. 

"I didn't know, Buffy never tells me anything," he said with a slight whine. He kept Connor's reaction in the corner of his eye. 

"Yeah," the young man chuckled. "There's something else we have in common. Alyssa never tells me anything either.

"Something else," Spike asked, "aside from Buffy."

"I'll bet she never mentioned me at all," Connor shrugged. "Connor William O'Keefe. Hence the in common things," he grinned, referring to the name. Spike nodded.

"Actually, all she told me was that she'd known you since you were in diapers," he explained. "I was kind of surprised that you were here. I've known Buffy for a few years, thought I knew all her friends."

"I was surprised to see Buffy," Connor nodded. "I didn't realize that she knew Angel and Max."

"So she didn't introduce you then?" Spike was even more puzzled now. He listened closely as Connor launched into the explanation of how he had met Max through work and then Angel. Neither Spike nor Alyssa realized that he left out a bit when describing the "mugging" that had taken place. For it was a demon that had attacked them, not a human. 

"It sure is a small world, isn't it honey," Alyssa grinned. She turned to Spike. "So how did you meet Buffy?" Spike was a little stunned, but thought quickly on his feet. No reason not to tell the truth, the edited version that was. 

"An old girlfriend of mine was ill," he shrugged. "We ended up in Sunnydale, heard there was a guy that could help us. Ran into Buffy outside a nightclub and the rest was fate."

"Love at first sight?" Alyssa sighed.

"No, pure, unadulterated, mortal enemy kind of despisement at first sight," Spike grinned broadly. The others laughed. His eyes grew thoughtful. "But bloody hell could she dance." He reminisced about their first fight a few moments, pushing down the little knot of pain he still felt when he thought of Joyce. She'd been gone more than a few years now, but every once in a while, it felt as if it had happened yesterday. That's what love did for you. Made you carry around the people closest to you whether they were there or not. He shook off the melancholy. "So you and Buffy have known each other a long time?"

"All my life," Connor confirmed. He glanced in the petite blonde's direction again, noticing her moving off to the stairs, somewhat excited. "God, she hasn't changed a bit." His eyes grew wide as his own statement impacted on his ears. Blood rushed through his ears as he stared at her retreating form. He realized that Spike was speaking again, but couldn't focus on the words. His entire body tingled, as if his mind were trying to yank his consciousness into paying attention to a long held secret. "Excuse me," he mumbled, staggering to his feet. "Need some air."

Spike watched with a modicum of concern as Connor rushed out of the hotel. He turned back to the girl, but she was sitting calmly, taking a sip of her beverage. "Is he gonna be okay?" he asked, perplexed at the young man's behavior. He'd suspected that something was off with the kid and this just seemed to confirm it. 

"Deep thought moment," Alyssa shrugged, unconcerned. "He gets like this once in a while. He does his best thinking when he's alone. He'll be back in a few." Spike nodded. He debated following after the young man, but wasn't sure exactly where he'd went. So he stayed and engaged Alyssa in conversation, managing to worm out of her the strange fact that Connor had never lived in LA before he started college. It was another strange fact to add to the growing pile. They continued to chat until Spike heard his lover calling her name. 

"Excuse me," he smiled and she nodded. He stood and caught an armful of his very excited girlfriend. "What's up luv?" he smiled at her squealing. Non-verbal meant it was humungous news. But he couldn't discern anything with her jumping up and down in the circle of his arms so very enticingly. Nor with the sheaf of papers flapping in his face. He tightened one arm around her waist and grabbed at the papers. "What's this then?"

"It's ours!" she crowed, not explaining anything at all. Spike glanced over the papers, recognizing them immediately for what they were.

"Where'd this come from?" he demanded softly. 

"Giles," she exclaimed giddily. 

"Giles bought us a house?" he asked dubiously. 

"No, no, no!" she laughed. "It's from the old watcher's council. The new watcher's decided that it was more than fair to give it to us so we'd have a base of operation. It's ours to do with as we please."

"I don't know," Spike sighed. He hated to rain on her parade. "This seems kind of… suspicious don't you think? They've had this house laying around for how long and they just decide to give it to us now?" He let her think about it for a moment. "Why not a few years ago?"

"Lawyers," she rolled her eyes. She lowered her voice so people wouldn't overhear. "Apparently with so many Watcher's being killed in such a short time, there was a lot for them to sort out. But they're done now and this was one of the pieces of property they retained. And now it's ours."

"One of the pieces?" he raised a solitary brow.

"Yep," she grinned. "Faith is getting a house too."

"Well good for us then," Spike grinned as well. "Score one for the Slayers!" They hugged again, Spike staring down over Buffy's back at the deed still clutched in his hand. How was it possible that in less than twenty-four hours everything had just started falling into place? Maybe the Powers had just decided it was their turn at last. He pulled back to stare into Buffy's shimmering eyes. "I love you," he whispered thickly as his lips descended to meet hers. He caressed her softly, his free hand moving up to cup the back of her head as the kiss deepened. 

Connor returned to the hotel to see this. He watched from the doorway, his mind still puzzled. As he'd rushed from the building, his mind whirling, he'd tried to make sense of what he'd thought. He knew Buffy his whole life. She knew him most of hers. So why didn't he have memories of her as a child? She was only four years older than he was. She hadn't been an adult like she was now her whole life. It made no sense. If it had just been the last few years, he could understand no change in her appearance. But he definitely had memories of being a baby in her adult arms. That just wasn't possible. And the further he'd looked for answers within himself, the less he found. For when closely examined, the memories wisped away like fog in the sunlight. 

There was nothing in any of the memories he had of her to pinpoint times in his life, except for his size. There were no other people there. Not his family, not hers. No friends. Just he and Buffy. Somehow, none of it was adding up. He wondered as well if it was the same for Buffy. If he couldn't see her now, he'd think her a figment of an overactive imagination. If she didn't recognize him, he'd think she was a stranger that he had created a fantasy friendship with. But she was there and she did know him. He wanted to rush over to her and shake some answers out of her. And he just might have if it weren't for the presence of the other people now gathering around her. So he approached cautiously, to sit with Alyssa. The first opportunity he had, he was going to sit Buffy down and tell her that something was wrong. He just couldn't today. It wasn't the right time. 

"What's going on?" he whispered to Alyssa. She turned a beaming smile on him.

"Spike and Buffy just got a house I think," she explained. "How are you?" she asked with the ease of long experience in handling her boyfriend.

"I'm fine," he lied just as easily. She watched him for a moment, then turned back to the celebration within the celebration.

"What's with the squealing Buff?" Dawn demanded, approaching her sister and her boyfriend. 

"I'd say that Giles gave her his surprise," Angel grinned, one arm wrapped around his wife. They smiled secretively at each other. Giles had already shared the rest of the council's plans with them, sort of as a sounding board. Because of the nature of Angel's resurrection, he could technically be considered a Slayer of the same class as Spike; the offer of a job was given. But Angel had made it clear that his focus was elsewhere. He already had enough jobs. He didn't need official backing from the New Council. 

"What is it Buffy?" Willow asked, trying to get a glimpse of the papers being waved around.

"We got a house!" Buffy exclaimed, bouncing up and down again. 

"Cool!" Dawn clapped her hands quickly. "Where is it? How big? Is there room for me? Can we go see it?" She was easily as excited as her sister. 

"Calm down Nibblet," Spike laughed, even as he grabbed her hand. It was the best thing in the world to him to see his girls happy. Dawn was every bit a sister to him as she was to Buffy. Maybe it was time to make it all official. 

"Let's see," Buffy murmured, running through Dawn's questions in her mind. "Don't know yet, three bedrooms, of course and as soon as possible." Dawn grinned again, the expression mirrored on the rest of the group's faces. Buffy pulled her towards a table so they could look over the paperwork. But Spike snagged Max's arm, a plan rapidly forming in his mind.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked quietly. He glanced up at Angel. "I won't keep her long."

"Sure thing," Max answered. They moved away from the rest of the group. Spike eyed her warily, unsure how she'd take his words. For the entire length of time they had known each other, they hadn't really gotten to know each other. Not that either minded. Again, there were just things between all four of them that prevented that. He jammed his hands into his jean pockets, suddenly nervous.

"I uh-, this was really unexpected," he began.

"Well don't look at me," she spoke teasingly. "I had nothing to do with it."

"No, it's not that," Spike protested quickly. "It's just that, I always figured that when Buffy and I moved into a house, we'd be…"

"Married?" Max provided. He nodded. She rolled her eyes. "So marry her."

"Well, I want to do it up, proper like," he explained hastily. "Got a ring I've had my eye on. Even got some money saved up. I'm thinking I could make a down payment on the set." He glanced away. When had it gotten so hard for him to ask for monetary help? It had never bothered him in the past. But then, he'd been a soulless demon. He had his pride now. But luckily for him, Max was one step ahead of him.

"You know," she tilted her head to the side. "I never did pay you back that fifty you gave me when we first met. It's been a while and I hate owing people money. I don't suppose you would mind if I paid it back with interest, would you?" His eyes lit up with barely concealed mirth. He had a sneaking suspicion what she was offering. 

"Not at all," he nodded solemnly. 

"How about when I get back from my honeymoon, you and I head down to this little club I k now and we'll see how much interest I accrued?" she offered, waggling her eyebrows. 

"If you're sure," he hesitated. He knew Lorne had said that she excelled at gambling, but no one's luck was perfect. "I mean, I don't want you losing-!"

"Spike," she looked offended. "Heightened senses, genius IQ, and probabilities expert. I don't lose. I'm the terror of the tables."

"All right then!" he accepted happily. Yes, everything was working out great. 

"So, when I get back?"

"When you get back," he confirmed with a nod.


	6. A Home Of Our Own

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Six

A Home Of Our Own

The excitement of the day continued. Max and Angel readied themselves and Eva for their flight to Ireland. Giles had finished packing and returned downstairs to visit as he promised. Everyone took a moment to send their best wishes along with the newlyweds when they left for the airport. Buffy, Spike and Dawn offered to drive Giles to the airport when his turn to leave came. They planned on seeing the house after they dropped him off. 

Giles advised them that he had authorized the turning on of the utilities at their new home. He laughed over the minor trouble the first person working at the Power Company had given him. But then he'd assumed his best British air and threw around the name of his son-in-law's law firm, Wolfram and Hart and they were quick to co-operate. There was something to be said about having connections in LA. So that was one less thing to worry about doing. Spike had earnestly assured Giles that they would pay him back for the deposits and payments. Giles just smiled good-naturedly and replied that it was part of the New Council deal and wasn't Giles' personal funds. He felt that if anyone did, Buffy was certainly entitled to it. 

It put Spike off a little, that he still wasn't providing any income yet. But then, neither was Buffy. These thoughts whirled through his head as they made their way back out to the car. Both women were fidgeting in their seats. He smiled softly to see it. It had seemed like such a long time since the two of them were together as a family. Ever since the destruction of Sunnydale, so much had changed between them. Dawn was growing up, something that Buffy could relate to in a manner. But they were also establishing new lives that were separate from each other. All of Dawn's life had revolved around her older sister. And again, to some extent, Buffy's revolved around Dawn. The loss of their mother changed their roles in each other's lives so drastically, that they reeled from it for years after. 

Spike knew it hurt Buffy a little that Dawn was becoming independent of her. He wondered if that was part of the reason why she wanted a baby so badly. And he could understand, he felt a little of the loss himself. He tried often to console Buffy and himself as well that with this Hellmouth gone, Dawn stood a good chance at a more normal life. And with all Buffy had gone through, she was determined that Dawn would have it. He brought his attention back to his girlfriend as she read off the directions that she'd memorized by heart. He smiled again at her eagerness. It was good to have something of his old Buffy back. Not that he didn't enjoy how she was now. But there was something about the girl that he'd fallen in love with those many years ago that he wanted to preserve. Wanted to keep for himself. Some little bit of that innocence that was torn cruelly away by their hard life. 

Even though Spike had been in LA many times in his life as a Vampire, he had to admit that Buffy knew it better. Despite not having lived there for over ten years, she still remembered certain areas fairly well. And though the people and shops had changed, there was a familiarity about it that she loved. It had been her home for fifteen years, not something easily forgotten. So he wasn't surprised when she recognized the neighborhood they were pulling into. He'd memorized the address of the house as well, so he would know when they were getting close. He followed the street, as it became a semi-close. 

He pulled to a stop at the very end. There it was their new home. The little house sat back a ways from the rest. No lights were on and it gave off the impression of loneliness. The light from the street lamp barely reached to the edge of the property. The group exited the car, making sure to lock it behind them. It was something they'd all had to relearn from their days in Sunnydale. It wasn't as imperative there as it was here in the big city. Spike waited for Buffy to move around the car, holding his hand out to her. She took it with an excited grin on her face. 

There was a feeling between the three of them, hard to pinpoint and describe. Spike and Buffy had been in the wind so long, that they had finally adapted to it, even if they hadn't enjoyed it. Spike wondered about that. He'd never put down roots before, except ones established by his birth. The closest he'd come was Sunnydale, but those were roots born of love of a woman. Sunnydale wasn't home, Buffy was. As long as Buffy was here beside him, this place could be home.

Buffy, who'd lived only in two homes, was apprehensive about the third one. Her first home had been destroyed by her parent's divorce. The house was still standing, but the love had gone out of it. That building could never have been home to her again. And her second home had been destroyed by battle. But it had come before the destruction of the Hellmouth. The suspicion and mistrust that had taken hold of the people that lived there, the Slayers-in-training and her friends destroyed any lingering warm feelings she had. It was a house of pain and loss in her mind now. She just hoped that things would be better here. 

Dawn was unsure quite how she felt about this new house. Sure, at first it had been exciting and a relief to have a place to go to. But did she really belong there? She'd essentially been on her own the last year, seeing the others occasionally. She'd grown up and learned to be a little self-sufficient. She wasn't sure what role was expected of her in this place. Would they expect her to go back to being the little sister? She was nearly of age, just a few more days to go. But family dynamics didn't often take age into consideration, especially in this group. Buffy, Willow and Xander had been forced into some pretty adult situations at an early age. They'd tried to keep it from Dawn. Would they naturally try again? It was true that they had been trying to treat her as she wanted to be seen, a young woman in her own right. But they'd had time and distance to accomplish that. 

The flip side of the coin was that Dawn still felt deep down, that she needed someone there to guide her. Not rule over her, but show her that she was on the right path to becoming a woman. She had college coming up, new friends to make, and other things to take her attention. She knew how things had been changing over the years, but Buffy always clung to what was familiar. Would her sister now revert back to form?

The air was thick with silence as they followed the narrow walk up to the house. Buffy pulled her hand free from Spike's as she withdrew the keys from her jean pocket. She gave the others a tremulous smile as she inserted the key into the lock. The click echoed slightly and Buffy smiled. It seemed that they were nervous over something extremely silly in that moment. She pulled the key out and turned the knob, but to her surprise, the door wouldn't budge. "What the hell?" she muttered, trying again. Nothing, it was stuck tight. "Oh don't tell me this Watcher idiot was some sort of paranoia guy that left a ward on the house," she complained. Behind her, Dawn began to snigger. She whirled around. "What?"

Spike quickly hid the grin on his face, trying not to let her see that he'd been laughing at her. Dawn felt no compunction and cackled loudly. "Er, luv, you might want to unlock the deadbolt as well." Buffy stared at him a moment, a blush creeping up on her face. 

"Oh yeah," she rolled her eyes. "Didn't think of that. Because a deadbolt would make sense. And is just a little too normal for our lives." With a shake of her head, just knowing that Spike was grinning like his idiotic, mirthful self at her, she chose the other key on the ring and inserted into the deadbolt. It turned with a loud click as well and the door finally swung open. 

"See Buffy," Dawn giggled. "No magic mojo here." She paused with a smirk. "Not until we walk in that is."

"So let's walk," Buffy giggled back. The excitement was taking hold again. She turned to see Spike's arms outstretched towards her. "What?"

"Aren't I supposed to carry you in?" he asked artfully. 

"That's when you get married stupid," Dawn snorted. Then her eyes widened. "You didn't-?"

"I told you Dawn," Buffy sighed at her sister's impatience over her love life, "you'll be the first to know after us."

"Oy," Spike broke in, "I still feel like I should be carrying someone." He quickly presented his back to Dawn. "Here, hop on Nibblet." Buffy smiled at their antics as Dawn jumped up onto his back and he carried her in piggyback style. Some things just never changed and she was glad that their relationship was one of them. It felt right to her that she was keeping this strong male influence in Dawn's life. Their father certainly never had been and their only other male friend that Dawn related to was in Europe, finding himself. 

While the other two horsed around, her hand felt along the wall for a light switch. She found it conveniently next to the door on the left and with a quick flick, the hallway was bathed in soft light. She could see beyond that that natural light was pouring in through windows around the house. She moved forward, taking in the ambience of the house. To their immediate right seemed to be a coat closet, which would be handy. The main hallway went straight back, ending from what she could see with a door. She stepped forward as Dawn slid back down to the floor. 

On their left was a living room, about the same size as the one in Sunnydale had been. There was furniture here, as promised, but covered in sheets to protect them from dust. The walls had been painted a soft blue and Buffy figured that was to combat the natural heat of the city. The entryway into the living room was arched. It had a comfortable feel to her immediately. A very neutral sense to it, as if it were a canvas, waiting for the artist to breathe life to it. She crossed the room, heading for the French doors opposite the hallway. She pulled back the heavy curtains, trying to resist the urge to sneeze. As she had thought, the doors led to the small walkway she'd seen outside the house. 

She turned to her right and found the dining room kitchen combo. There was a table set on the linoleum floor, a beautiful cream and blue with gold flecks in it. The table was a light colored oak with matching chairs. Turning right again took her a few steps into the kitchen. It was more compact than their old one had been, but all the necessary tools were there. She continued back to the hallway, through another arched way. She opened the closet that she'd seen earlier, relieved to see it was a little pantry closet. 

There were two more doors in the hallway. The first revealed a half bathroom. She smiled, thinking back on the difficulties of so many people in one household. Bathrooms were sacred and to be prized. This one was done in the same decorative style as the kitchen. The use of color gave a continuous feeling to the main level that was comforting and easy. Spike and Dawn had finally caught up.

"Buffy!" Dawn was just as excited about her sister. "Did you go outside?" Buffy shook her head no. "That porch off the living room isn't it. It leads back to a humungous deck." Buffy and Spike smiled at her enthusiasm. 

"What are you smiling about luv?" Spike asked softly. Buffy gestured to the last door she'd opened. 

"Bathroom on the main floor," she replied dryly. "Always a blessing."

"What's this one?" Dawn asked, yanking open the last door. She flipped on the light switch and stared down. "Hmm, basement."

"We can look there last," Buffy decided, pushing the door gently out of her way. "I want to see upstairs." They followed her as she moved to the staircase, which was off the right of the entryway. There were two steps, a landing and then steps that curved up into the upper hallway. Her first stop was the door on her left. A simply furnished bedroom with a bed, nightstand and dresser. The room was undecorated, but Buffy stepped in to check out the closet and then the view from the window. It looked down over the front of their house. She let Dawn look and then dragged her sister out, with a semi-interested Spike trailing behind. 

She moved down the hallway, to the other door on the left. Throwing it open, she searched for the light, as the sun was finally beginning to set. She let out a little gasp as she took it all in. The walls were painted a light mauve, with a cream carpet to offset it. There was a massive bed set in the center of the room. Two nightstands, one on either side, matched the cherrywood dresser and vanity table to their right. But what pleased her the most was the large closet along the left wall. 

Spike and Dawn exchanged knowing grins. If there was one thing Buffy still loved, it was a massive shopping trip for clothes. Not something that she'd been able to indulge in for long because of time constraints, money and the fact that Spike made Buffy carry her own luggage occasionally. Naturally in the hopes of teaching her an object lesson on why she didn't need more clothes. Dawn moved off to explore the other bedroom, finding it much the same as the first. She deliberated between the two while Buffy and Spike had a moment in the main bedroom. 

"You like it luv?" he asked softly, folding his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned back against him. 

"What's not to like?" she grinned as she tilted her head up. "You and a big bed all in the same room and… oh my God!" She gasped and pulled out of his embrace. "Spike, look." 

He followed her the few steps she took and a wide, leering grin appeared on his face as he took in the mirrored sliding doors of the closet. "Well well," he chuckled. "Looks like someone knew how to get their jollies up here." He pulled her back to the bed, sitting carefully to avoid the ensuing cloud of dust from the sheets. She sat next to him and he pushed her head to their left with gentle fingers. She gasped again as she realized how well positioned the vanity table mirror was. "So, are we keeping it?"

"We are," she confirmed. And strangely, they both felt a little click inside them, as if destiny were confirming their decision. Spike drew her back around to him, lowering his lips to hers. She met him with a slow, tantalizing caress of her lips on his, relishing in the tenderness they had for each other. 

"Ahem," Dawn's voice piped up from the doorway. They broke off the kiss to glance at her. "I'd say get a room, but it looks like you've found the one you want." She may have been complaining, but it was just a deeply ingrained habit to tease the lovebirds. And they knew it as well. 

"So what do you think Dawn?" Buffy asked eagerly. She wanted her sister to feel as comfortable in this house as she did. 

"It's okay," Dawn shrugged. She hadn't seen anything to get excited over yet, aside from the fact that the location was fairly close to the beach. Only a couple blocks away. "The bathroom's okay, got a nice bug tub."

"That's always good," Spike smiled, remembering fondly some previous evenings spent luxuriating in a tub full of bubbles and Buffy. 

"Can we check out the basement now?" Dawn asked hopefully. Buffy and Spike nodded, trailing after her as she pounded down the stairs. 

They were pleasantly surprised when they arrived at the bottom of the house. Giles had said it was completed, but they never imagined that it had been furnished as well. The laundry area, under the kitchen was blocked off and it looked as if the previous owner had installed a small bathroom under the others. There was an open area, with carpet, to protect feet against the bare, cold, stone floor. But it was the office under the living room that intrigued them. It was a fairly large square room, with a corner style desk on the far side. Buffy slowly turned in a circle, taking the room in. 

Contrary to what Dawn may have believed, Buffy knew her sister very well. And she'd learned over the years to read her sister's body language. She knew that Dawn was hesitant about living with her again. Not that she could blame her. She remembered being Dawn's age, all excited about heading off to college. Wanting to get out from under the parental eye. And with all her heart, she wished she could do that for Dawn. But right now, they could barely afford tuition to UCLA. If it weren't for the college fund their parents had jointly set up, it would be out of the question. Hank Summers was never generous anymore with his time, but knew he could find a way to write off the money earmarked for Dawn's education. And it was all he had left to ease his guilty conscious. 

So Buffy was rapidly calculating the next best thing. "You know," she mused aloud, but making sure that Dawn could hear her. "We could take this stuff out of here and move one of the bedroom sets down here. And maybe a couch and television eventually for the other room. I mean, it wouldn't exactly be your own place, but at least you'd have a lot more privacy." She grinned as she saw Dawn's eyes light up. She braced herself as Dawn threw herself at her sister.

"Do you mean it?" Dawn shrieked. "That would be so cool." They hugged tightly. Dawn pulled back, her mind already working as to how she could decorate. 

"What do you think Spike?" Buffy asked mischievously. She already knew he'd agree. Anything to keep his girls smiling. 

"Well," he drawled, rubbing absently at the back of his neck. Dawn spun around, suddenly nervous that he'd object. "I suppose, as long as she's not inviting strange young men over every night and havin' wild parties…"

"Yeah, right," Dawn snorted, her arms crossed defiantly. "You'd be right there with me, extolling the virtues of the Sex Pistols versus everything else." And it was true he had to admit. The few parties they'd been to together, she'd catalogued his behavior, as he had hers. Again, it was the good-natured teasing that existed between them. 

"Besides," Buffy continued for him, "we'll probably fill that room with something else soon." At Dawn's inquisitive look, she went on. "You know, like nursery stuff. And I mean, it's not fair to ask you to try to be studying upstairs when there's a crying baby just a few doors down." Dawn's eyes were just huge.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked, her arms dropping to her side. "Are you guys…?"

"Not yet," Buffy shrugged as Spike slung his arm around her waist. "But we're trying." And like her sister, Dawn went with the non-verbal approach at this news. The three of them fell in a tangled heap on the floor from her exuberance. And all laughing, they knew they had found their home. 


	7. Independence Day

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Seven

Independence Day 

"Ooh," Dawn exclaimed suddenly. She was ensconced in the back seat of the DeSoto. After they'd decided to move in, they'd taken a cursory inventory of the items in the cupboards and closets. Most everything they would need was already there and they were headed back to the hotel now. 

"What Dawn?" Buffy asked tiredly from the front seat. She'd snuggled up close to Spike, who'd wrapped one arm around his girlfriend. The day had taken a lot out of her. 

"You know what we should do?" Dawn continued, squirming now as her idea took hold. She didn't wait for them to answer. "We should have a house warming party."

Buffy smiled to herself. Dawn wasn't quite a party animal, but she certainly had the makings of one. "I don't know Dawn," she protested half-heartedly. "Me and parties, not so mixy."

"That's just your birthday," Dawn pointed out. "This would be a party for the house." She paused a moment. "What do you think Spike?"

"Either way is fine with me Nibblet," he shrugged.

"But we haven't had a party in so long," Dawn's voice was just short of whining. Buffy craned her head to give her little sister an aggrieved look.

"Dawn, remember the wedding?" she teased. "Wasn't that a big enough party for you?"

"Yeah," Dawn sighed, "but it wasn't our party."

"We'll think about it," Buffy assured her. Although, she kind of liked the idea. As Dawn had said, it was usually her birthday parties, well, even her birthday itself that turned out horribly. It was quite a list she had, from the mundane, like her father canceling on her to the outrageous. Of which there were more than she wanted to think about. But a house warming sounded like something mature people did. Something couples did. She snuck a glance up at Spike, but he was already glancing at her. 

"You want to now, don't you?" he grinned. She ducked her head into his shoulder.

"You know me too well," she complained, the words slightly muffled by the fabric of his coat. She pulled her head back up, not minding in the least that he was sensitive to her mercurial decision making process. "Would you mind?"

"When have I ever said no to you pet?" he pulled her a little closer. 

"Do you really want to hear the list again?" Dawn complained with her ears keenly tuned to their conversation. Buffy giggled. Spike groaned. He should have known better than to try that line. But honestly, if there was something Buffy wanted, he always tried to provide it for her. It wasn't his fault that there were just some things his manly self wouldn't do. Like let her paint his toenails when she was bored. 

"All right," he acquiesced," we can have a party. "Happy Bit?"

Dawn's little squeal told them both that she was. "Good. We can have it on the Fourth of July!"

"Dawn!" both Buffy and Spike protested.

***** 

After a little more discussion, Buffy got Dawn to agree to say nothing of the party. After all, the house required a bit of cleaning before it would be fit for living in. Granted, it was mostly dusting and vacuuming and a few washed floors, it didn't seem as if the party was impossible. Spike even admitted that they had enough money tucked away that they could afford food, as long as it wasn't steaks and champagne. They did have to think beyond the holiday and the fact that they'd have to buy groceries for the rest of the month and be prepared to pay regular bills again. Buffy just didn't want to fall back into the same situation that they'd been in after her resurrection. So it was agreed that they'd return to clean the house the next day, then go from there. 

And with a little effort on all three of their parts, they nearly had the house cleaned by the evening of the second. Spike and Dawn had transferred the entire bedroom set from the first room upstairs down to the basement. They'd set up the desk in the unused corner of the living room. It seemed silly to put the computer so far away from Dawn when she would be using it most. She had her laptop, a graduation gift from her sister, Spike, Willow, Kennedy and Xander to use in her room. But since Spike and Buffy occasionally fiddled around with the computer, the main floor seemed to suit it best. Besides, Buffy was very serious about having a bedroom to convert to a nursery. 

The trio returned to the hotel, tired but elated. They joined the AI team, Willow and Kennedy in the lobby and announced that they were having a combination barbecue, housewarming. Willow wondered about waiting for Giles, Max and Angel, but Buffy shrugged that off. She figured they could always have another party when the gang was all together again, including Xander. After a little scheming about what they were serving, it was decided that the new homeowners would provide the hamburgers, fixings and beverages. Everyone else invited was going to bring salads. There was a good mood abounding. 

In the morning, Buffy packed their luggage for the last time, she hoped. As soon as she was done, she went to check on Dawn, to find out from Kennedy that the teen had already hauled all her bags down to the lobby. With a laugh, the blonde Slayer returned to the room she had just exited. Spike had just emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. He threw the towel he'd been using to dry his hair back towards the bathroom. Buffy frowned at him and went after it to pick it up from the counter and hang it properly.

"Don't know what you're bothering for luv," Spike teased when she came out. She shrugged.

"We just have to get back in the habit of picking up after ourselves," she pointed out. "After all, no more room service and maids to clean up while we're gone."

"All the more reason to now then," Spike argued good-naturedly. Neither he nor Buffy was very domestic, although she had more practice in keeping house. To some extent, her habits had rubbed off on Spike, mostly through constant nagging. But he had to admit, it was nicer to live in a place that wasn't littered with cigarette butts and empty liquor bottles. Teasing his lover was one of his favorite pastimes though. He jumped on the bed and leered up suggestively at her. "Want to rumple the sheets a little?"

Buffy wasted no time jumping onto the bed after him. She pinned him quickly, straddling his waist with her petite body. As she leaned over him, his arms came up to clasp her loosely. Buffy lowered her face to within an inch of his. She regarded him for a moment, then brushed a kiss over his lips. She pulled back and bumped his nose with hers, making him open his eyes. "Spike, I want to go to our home and rumple our sheets," she explained softly. He smiled up at her indulgently and sat up. She put her hands on his shoulders to balance herself, settling on his crossed legs. 

"Home it is then," he agreed. He caught another kiss from her, then patted her behind. "Well, if we're going, you'll have to get off me woman." Buffy obliged and hurried to pick up a few of the smaller bags. Spike hefted the two larger ones, after donning his weapons bag. They never went anywhere anymore without them. He dropped the bags once to shut the door behind them and then followed Buffy to the elevator. 

The entire group was waiting for them, happy smiles across their faces. They set their bags next to Dawn's, who had a little more than they did. After all, she'd been settled in school and had had the chance to accrue more possessions than the others. She'd packed up her entire life when she graduated, so she had some boxes in storage that she'd want to get fairly soon. Willow came forward first. 

"Oh, I don't know why it feels like we're saying goodbye when you're just going to be twenty minutes away," she complained as she hugged her friend. 

Buffy hugged her back, a little emotional herself. "It's another fork in the road Wills. It always seems like lately we've been taking one road while you take the other." She sniffled, then let her friend loose. "But you know that there's always a spare room for you, right?" Willow nodded, then moved to embrace Spike and finally Dawn. 

"Cheer up," Dawn exclaimed. "We're going to see you on Monday anyway."

"That's true," Cordelia exclaimed. She hurried forward to quickly hug the trio. She'd never been close to them, but had long ago put aside the differences between them. "I'm so happy for you guys. And not at all jealous. Because, you know, I love my apartment."

"Gee, thanks Cordy," Buffy gave her a strange look, unable to stop smiling. 

"I'm just saying," Cordy shrugged, "old me would have been jealous of you guys having a house dropped in your lap."

"We get it Cordy," Willow sighed. Even after all these years, some things hadn't changed, even though the people had. Kennedy, Wes, Fred and Gunn shook their hands, adding their congratulations as well. As one, the group began to gather up the belonging's to be moved and headed out to the car. They filled the trunk and a bit of the back seat. Buffy remembered to hand Cordy the keys to their rooms. 

"If you talk to Max and Angel before they get back, tell them thank you," she instructed. The Seer nodded. "Oh and before I forget, we don't have a phone yet at the house. But if anyone needs to get ahold of us, we all have our cell phones."

"I thought those we for emergencies only?" Willow teased. 

"Wills!" Buffy mock exclaimed. "A house with no phone is an emergency!"

There was laughter as they pulled away from the hotel. Those left behind gathered to wave good-bye to their friends. After the car was out of sight, they turned as one to return to their business at the hotel. 

Spike had already memorized the easiest route between the hotel and the house and they were there in Willow's predicted twenty minutes. The neighborhood had a different feeling in the morning. Children were running about, enjoying their summer vacation. Women were out weeding gardens, gossiping with one another and generally going about their day. As they pulled in at the curb of their part of the street, a woman walking a dog stopped to watch them. When she saw the suitcases and boxes, she approached slowly. 

"Hi there!" she greeted them brightly. Spike and Buffy paused to watch her, murmuring greetings of their own. "I'm Denise Matthews. Are you guys moving in?"

"That we are," Spike tried not to roll his eyes. He had a real pet peeve about people stating the obvious these days. 

"That's great," the woman continued. "I live two houses down," she motioned back the way she had came. "It was a real shame when the last guy left. Although he was pretty much a loner. It'll be nice to have new neighbors."

"We're looking forward to moving in," Buffy prodded gently. Denise took the hint immediately. 

"Oh of course," she reddened slightly. "I'm sorry. My husband calls me motormouth. I never shut up."

"That's okay," Buffy grinned. The woman didn't seem that bad. And she remembered how curious people in Sunnydale got when someone new moved in. That was all they ever seemed to be curious about. "I'm Buffy Summers." She gestured to Dawn, on her left. "This is my sister Dawn." Dawn grinned over her load of boxes.

"Hi!" she greeted brightly. 

"And this is my boyfriend," Buffy continued, gesturing to Spike. "William Worthington." She smiled as he glared at her. "But we all call him Spike."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you," Denise smiled widely. "Oh, I know it's probably too soon, but do you have plans for the Fourth?"

"Actually," Buffy glanced quickly at Spike. "We've invited some friends over for a barbecue."

"That's great," she enthused. "See, every year, we have our separate parties, then most of the neighbors head down to the beach to watch the city fireworks. You would all be welcome to join us."

Buffy was touched that they'd already met such an open person. But she had long years to school herself to be cautious and that instinct exerted itself now. "Thanks. We'll have to see how things work out."

"All right," Denise nodded. She clicked her tongue, getting her dog's attention. "Well, I'll just finish walking Thunder here and let you guys get moved in." She moved off and the trio continued up the path. Spike reached the door first and took the keys from Buffy. 

The move in went along quickly and they were able to relax. Until they realized that they had no food in the house yet. Buffy was reluctant to go out again, until Spike teased her that the house would still be there when they returned. So, donning light jackets, they trooped back out to the car, prepared to drop back into the lifestyle they'd been craving for a while. 

After dropping a few of his favorite snacks into the cart, Spike took off. He promised to be back in an hour to pick them up. Buffy agreed easily as Spike never seemed interested in shopping with them. As long as he had some chips and a case of beer, he was happy. So she and Dawn continued on, making the important decision between green or red apples. 

***** 

Independence Day dawned, finding all three up and excited, to some extent at least. Spike was still teasing the girls about forcing him, a Brit, into celebrating the day the Americans thumbed their noses at their mother country. And when he got tired of that, laughing how they kept going on about their independence. Especially when they were celebrating in a house they had been given and on money they'd mainly borrowed. Buffy had finally banished him from the kitchen. Dawn followed him out to the porch to add her ideas about how to clean the grill and together the two of them accomplished that. 

Close to noon, they moved back into the house. Dawn had called dibs on the shower, which Spike didn't worry over. She clambered up the stairs after retrieving her robe. Spike moved into the kitchen and loitered at the refrigerator as Buffy rushed around, getting things ready. Their friends were arriving at one-thirty to eat and party. And she wanted everything to be perfect. She looked over the array of food she'd prepared. Since everyone else was bringing salads, she'd decided to make some dessert. The timer on the oven rang and she pulled on an oven mitt to remove the cake she'd gotten to after the cookies. The kitchen was overly warm, but she figured no one would be in there for much. She smiled up at Spike.

"There," she sighed in relief. "I'm all done baking." He smiled at her, just taking in the scene. She began to transfer some of the cooled cookies to the platter containing the rest of the batch. Spike stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. His eyes were suspiciously moist as he held her. She leaned back against him and continued working. There was something so right to him about this moment. She was relaxed, happy, and complete. And he wanted to be here with her, like this, forever. He brushed her hair away from her ear and leaned down a little.

"Marry me," he whispered to her.

"Sure," she replied with a smile, but didn't break her pattern. Scoop the cookie, then reach, and then drop the cookie. As soon as she was done this she'd frost the cake, make sure the soft drinks were cooling, and then shower. The hamburger patties were made and the buns were defrosting. She still had to set out the fixings, but that could be taken care of after people arrived. She heard Spike; she just didn't really hear him. 

Spike stepped back and dug into his jean pocket. All morning and Buffy had never noticed. He grasped her elbow lightly and turned her around. With his thumb, he flipped open the little black box and held it before him. "No luv," he tried again. "Will you marry me?"


	8. Fireworks

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Eight 

Fireworks

Buffy stared at the ring box her boyfriend was holding before him. She glanced up at his beaming face, then back to the ring. She tried to speak, but her mouth had suddenly gone dry. She cleared her throat and tried again. "W-what?"

Spike shook his head ruefully. "It's a simple question luv. Will you marry me?"

"Spike," her brow furrowed together. She glanced down at herself helplessly. "You weren't supposed to ask me like this."

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly nervous. "Buffy-!"

"I was supposed to be dressed up, not sweaty," she whined. "And we were supposed to go out to dinner. And flowers. You were supposed to bring me flowers. And champagne. A-and it was going to be romantic. But y-you..."she was very close to tears. But Spike understood her. He hadn't given her any of the clues females normally expected. He'd caught her off guard and she didn't know how to react. He moved forward to wrap an arm around her waist.

"Instead, I ask you in the middle of a busy day," he crooned softly in her ear. "Right when you're trying to concentrate on what you're doin' and you're all sweaty with your hair flyin' every which way. Lookin' incredibly sexy like always." She smiled at his gentle teasing and leaned her head against his shoulder. "If you want romantic," he continued, "then we'll do romantic. That's fine. But I'm askin' right now, in this life we've made for ourselves. When we're distracted and have things to do, when we're arguin' with each other, and you know we will." She giggled. "When we've got bills to pay and dead end jobs and a floor to scrub. With all that, could you be my wife?"

Now it was Buffy's turn for understanding. And Spike was right. A ring was more than just announcing the intention to wed. It was the life two people made together. And he had a good point. Before this, they'd been floating along, content to be with each other and focusing on slaying. Before that, they'd simply encroached on each other's territory. She'd visited his crypt. He'd lived in her basement. She let her imagination roam. She could indeed see all those things he mentioned and relished it. 

"Yeah," she finally murmured. "Yes, I want to be your wife." Spike beamed at her as she pulled back to look up at him. There was just a microsecond there that he'd been worried. But he knew her well enough now to be sure of her answer. It had been their plan for a while, but no definite plans had been made, until now. He pulled the ring from the box and slipped it on the appropriate finger, sealing the promise with a tender kiss on her knuckle. Buffy glanced once more at the ring in its new nesting place before launching herself at her fiancé. "We're getting married!" she squealed. 

Spike laughed as they fell to the floor. This was the reaction he'd been looking for. But the laughter didn't last long as she began to rain kisses all over his face. Within seconds their delight had transformed itself back to the insatiable lust they still felt for one another. Her hands impatiently pushed the tee shirt up his chest, her lips caressing the silky skin underneath. He wasn't idle either, his hands roaming over the curve of her backside. She sat up long enough to allow him to remove her shirt, before descending again. They continued for a few minutes before a thought occurred to her.

"Oh!" she pulled back and stared down at him, a mirthful grin on her face. "Um honey…Dawn?"

Spike glanced upwards. "Still in the shower. I think we can get past her." Buffy nodded and scrambled up to her feet. Spike followed and before she could get far, had swept her up in his arms. He hurried down the hall and took the steps, two at a time while Buffy nuzzled at his neck. Luck was with them that the bathroom door was still shut. Spike nudged their door open and kicked it shut after stepping through. He continued moving forward, never relinquishing his hold on her. 

He carried her to the bed, seating himself with her on his lap. He nudged her so that she was facing the mirror. Buffy squirmed in his lap, feeling his erection straining at his jeans. She turned her head back and caught his lips again. Spike moaned slightly as she continued to move against him. His hands slid slowly up her belly until they were cupping her breasts. The satiny material of her bra heightened the sensation of his fingers playing over her. He continued rubbing until her nipples stood hard then moved to release the front catch. Her breasts spilled out and his hands moved up to pull the straps down her arms. He broke off the kiss and feathered kisses along her shoulder.

Buffy turned back to the mirror, enjoying the simple eroticism of watching themselves at play. Spike's fingers returned to her now bare breasts, teasing again. She rested her hands on his forearms, reveling in the strength as they flexed and moved. Her head tilted back as he sucked gently on the pulse at her throat. One hand stole down to unbutton her jeans, continuing his exquisite torture. She moaned loudly, heedless of anything else around them. "Need you," she whispered. 

"Me too luv," Spike breathed in her ear, his voice husky. His other hand came down to help push her clothing off her body. Reluctantly she stood, but he was right behind her. She stepped out of the clothing and left them where the fell. She turned in his arms and carefully pulled his shirt off of him. Then made short work of his jeans. She grinned to herself, noting that even living with a teenager again, he was still going commando. Of course she didn't mind, as it was to her advantage at the moment. Spike's eyes nearly rolled up in his head as he enjoyed the physical attention she gave him. 

He returned the favor, his hand caressing her softly but steadily. His other arm caught her around the waist as her knees began to buckle. He backed them towards the bed allowing the rush to take him over as they fell quickly through the air to land on the plush comforter. He rolled them over so that he was above her; his legs tangled with her. He didn't worry about his weight on hers, knowing that in a small way it made her feel secure. She always wanted to feel him there, with her; to be sure that he wasn't leaving her. A small insecurity she carried still, but one that he indulged. 

Spike used his entire body to entice her into readiness. His hands stroked up her belly tingling at the heat she was creating. His tongue licked lightly at the corner of her mouth until she opened her own and he thrust in as his hips mimicked the motion at the juncture of her thighs. Buffy moaned slightly into his mouth as she drew her feet up along his calves. Each moment, each movement was familiar to them by now, but with the emotion pouring through them, it felt brand new again. She smiled as she realized this. Spike pulled back, with a matching grin, he felt it as well. 

"Now Spike," she panted, "please." He followed her lead eagerly and soon the only sound between them was the rhythmic connection of their slick selves. Their orgasms built together, as they often did now. All too soon, she could feel her mind and body clamoring for that perfect moment. "Oh Spike," she gasped. "Harder," she urged. He obliged with a muffled grunt, knowing that she wanted him to come with her. He sped up slightly, how he didn't know. Their lips met with his final thrust, both of them shivering as mindless oblivion swept both of them away.

***** 

Dawn shook her head as she climbed out of the shower. Even over the spray of the water, she heard the familiar sounds of her sister and her best friend. She gave a rueful smile that at least they'd made it to their bedroom. She could count the number of times on one hand that she'd accidentally caught them. But each and every one was embarrassing all around. She knew it was a basic part of life, having experimented a little at boarding school. But that didn't mean she wanted it in her face all the time. She quickly donned her terry cloth robe and grabbed a towel for her dripping hair. On silent feet she stole down the steps, knowing that they probably wouldn't care where she was, as long as it wasn't near them. 

She paused in the kitchen for a glass of water, noting that Buffy had finished mostly everything before taking her little break. With a grin, Dawn picked up the discarded shirt from the floor, grabbed one of the cookies and headed down to her bedroom, thankful that the sound didn't carry as badly as some of the places they'd stayed together. She figured that by the time she'd dried off, dressed, applied her make-up and did her hair, they might be done. 

It took nearly an hour before she was ready to head upstairs again. She noted that her alarm clock read one-thirty now. She'd set it fifteen minutes fast, to give herself that extra time to be ready. She hurried now, knowing that their guests would be arriving soon. As she emerged from the basement, she heard movement on the floor above her and was glad that she wouldn't have to interrupt them. She moved into the kitchen, stealing another cookie as she contemplated what was left to be done. The cake needed frosting, but they wouldn't be eating that until later. So she checked and decided to slice some onions for the burgers, then attack the lettuce. She smiled as she remembered Buffy's argument that cheeseburgers with onion, lettuce and ketchup actually did constitute a balanced meal. 

The doorbell rang just as Spike was making his way down the steps. He and Dawn met in the hallway, both with shared grins on their faces. Spike yanked the door open, ready to be the pleasant host. All was right with his day and not even a demon appearing on their doorstep could ruin it for him. Which, in a way was exactly what he got. 

Cordelia took in the look on his face as she stepped in. "Hmm, looks like someone started celebrating early," she teased. If anything, Spike's grin widened. 

"You don't know the half of it," he replied. He held his hands out and Cordy set the bowls she'd been carrying into them. Dawn held her hand out for the sweater she'd been carrying over her arm. She stowed it in the coat closet. 

"Buffy just got out of the shower," Spike called back over his shoulder as he took the salads to the kitchen. "She'll be down in a minute. Dawn, why don't you show her your bedroom," he suggested heavily. Dawn rolled her eyes as she motioned for the Seer to follow her. 

"That's code speak," she told the other woman as they dutifully traipsed down the stairs. "That means Buffy wants to change the sheets before the rest of the tour."

"Dawn!" Cordy protested with a slight blush. 

"What?" the teen asked, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Cordy eyed her; the knowledge hitting her unexpectedly that little Dawn had grown up quite a bit. She sighed.

"You're probably right," she admitted with a chuckle. The pair waited downstairs for ten minutes, with Dawn explaining about the changes they initially made in the household. They moved upstairs once more when they heard the doorbell again. Buffy was hurrying down to answer it, her hair still wet. This time, it was Willow. 

"Hey Wills!" Buffy greeted her, noting that Kennedy was nowhere in sight. She let her loose, immediately sticking her hands in the pockets of her jean shorts. Her friend stepped in with a nervous smile. 

"Hi," she greeted the group. "Um, Kennedy was going to come, but uh, she has a headache. She said she might stop by later."

"Okay," Buffy nodded with a bright smile. She could see how embarrassing it was for the redhead that her girlfriend has stood her up. For it was obvious to her that the end was near between the two. But there was no way she'd make a big deal of it. Especially in front of people. She promised herself that she'd catch Willow alone later and make sure she was okay. For now, she'd go on as expected. And that meant making her friend feel comfortable and welcome. "Well, come in and see the house."

"Maybe I should put this in the fridge," Willow frowned, holding out the large pan she still held. "It's layer salad."

"Sounds yummy," Buffy grinned, gesturing down the hall with her right hand. Willow nodded and hurried out of sight. A knock sounded and Dawn caught it this time. Fred, Gunn and Wesley stood on the doorstep, each carrying something. The teen stepped back to allow them entry. Buffy chuckled when she took in the package in Gunn's hands. "You wrapped your salad?" Gunn glanced down.

"Nah girl," he grinned. "It's a housewarming, ain't it? That means presents."

"I knew there was a reason I liked this idea," Buffy said quickly. The group moved around awkwardly in the small space, but they finally got themselves in and the door shut. Wes held his offering out to Spike, explaining quickly that he and Gunn were hopeless at salads. So they had brought the beer. Spike exclaimed over the imported ale that Wes had chosen. It was one of his favorites from the mother country. He placed the beverages to cool in the refrigerator and led the men out to the deck, wanting to get the grill going. Buffy led the women to the kitchen to deposit the rest of the food and set the presents on the table. 

She led them upstairs for a quick tour of the house. Willow, Fred and Cordelia chuckled over their surprise when they saw the hastily made-up master bedroom, but wouldn't share with the Summers women. The tour continued, ending in Dawn's room. Willow expressed her relief that Dawn had a modicum of privacy, knowing from experience how difficult that could be with other people in the house. As everyone laughed at Buffy's sudden blush, Willow took a closer look at her friend. She seemed filled with nervous energy. Which could be written off to her dislike of parties. A fear that was completely understandable. But it seemed different that the nervous Buffy she was used to. This nervous Buffy wasn't babbling. As they trooped upstairs again, Willow hung back a little before heading up, Buffy close behind.

"What's up?" she asked quietly. 

"Nothing's up Willow," Buffy denied quickly. "Why would you think that something's up?"

"Just that you've got your hands stuck in your pockets," Willow noted, "and you've been very quiet, for you. And you just seem…"

"Excited?" Buffy asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," the redhead nodded. "Kind of."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out Willow," Buffy assured her with a smirk. Willow watched her friend with a small gasp. Now she knew for sure. Something big was going on. 

Once they'd gotten the grill warming, the men moved back into the living room. The group gathered in the living room, settling themselves in. "Is Connor coming?" Cordy asked Buffy. The blonde shook her head. 

"I invited him and Alyssa," Buffy explained. "But they're spending the day with his family. Alyssa is heading back to her family tomorrow, so they wanted to spend some time alone later."

"Makes sense," Gunn nodded. "Now, let's get to the presents!" Everyone laughed. Spike retrieved them from where they had been set. 

"You guys really didn't need to," Buffy protested, but Cordy hushed her.

"Yes we did," the Seer contradicted her. "It's not everyday you move into a new house. And we thought about what you guys might not have or something you needed. And this is what we came up with." Spike handed one of the large packages to Dawn who accepted it eagerly. Everyone watched as the teen ripped open her gift. Inside was a brand new set of sky blue sheets, with a matching comforter. Her favorite color. She grinned at everyone. 

"That's so cool, thanks you guys," she squealed. As one, they turned to Buffy and Spike. They glanced at one another; the Spike tilted his head down to the gift on her lap. It was a similar size to Dawn's. 

Buffy took a deep breath. She'd been trying to conceal her hand, but there was no way now. It had amused her to see how long she could go without anyone noticing. Willow had suspected, but she was sure that her friend hadn't suspected this. "Well, you guys know I love presents," she began. "But I think I already got my best one today." Cordy rolled her eyes.

"Please, no details," she instructed. "My ears are already burning from Dawn's hints," she gave the girl a good-natured glare.

"That was after," Buffy giggled. With as much pomp as she could manage, she withdrew her slightly hidden left hand and rested it on the gift. As she expected, there was instant shrieking from the women. The girls gathered around her quickly, all exclaiming over what they hadn't noticed. 

"Oh my Goddess!" Willow laughed. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"Oh, you did not," Cordy snorted as she held Buffy's hand up. 

"Actually she did," Buffy countered. "Just not in the knew it was a ring sense."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you guys," Fred sighed, wiping a joyful tear from her eye. Romance always caught her off guard, for all her scientific nature. 

Dawn, after hugging her sister in a choking grip, turned to Spike. She smiled tremulously. "So, I finally get my… my W-I-S-H," she spelled it out laughingly. Spike grinned back and held out his arms. She launched herself at him, employing the death grip on him now. The group continued congratulating the happy couple, while Dawn danced around the living room, singing "I'm getting a brother!" at the top of her lungs. 

They finally settled down to let Buffy open their gift. It was like Dawn's, a new set of sheets and comforter. But theirs was black silk with a deep purple comforter. Buffy understood and pointed out why the girls had been giggling in the master bedroom. The colors would fit perfectly in their mauve painted room. Buffy thanked them all, then took the gift up to their room, to be put to use later. When she returned, Willow was asking if they'd set a date.

"I don't know Red," Spike grimaced slightly. He glanced at Buffy. "Knowin' our luck, any day we'd pick, we'd have some sort of apocalypse." Buffy laughed, while Willow and Dawn each took a turn smacking him lightly on the arm. "What?" he protested indignantly.

"You just jinxed your wedding day," Cordy explained with an aggrieved roll of her eyes.

"Well, he does make a good point," Wes interrupted in a slightly stuffy manner, the innate Watcher in him coming out. "You'd want to choose a day that won't be interfered with."

"The only day I can think of that we know is quiet in the Vamp community is Halloween," Willow laughed. The room grew silent as Buffy and Spike stared at each other, silently communicating. Buffy nodded once and Spike laughed. They both saw the irony of it, knew the memories associated with the day. It felt right, in a lighthearted manner that they needed in their life. 

"Halloween it is luv," he grinned. Buffy moved forward to kiss him quickly, before turning back to their friends. 

"I think we just chose a date."

With the initial ice broken, the group went about making merry. They dined on the burgers that the manly men argued over. Dined on the varied salads that the women had laboriously prepared. And finally, were presented with an uniced chocolate cake that was delicious nonetheless. As dusk approached, their neighbor, Denise, came up through the backyard and reminded them of the invitation. The group agreed and gathering their coats followed the chatty woman down to the beach. It seemed the entire neighborhood was there, with children running about excitedly. 

The party found their own places among the sandy stretch and chatted idly until the fireworks began. There were many sighs and whispers of appreciation. Dawn turned to point out an impressive display to her sister, only to see her and Spike locked in a gentle kiss that spoke of contentment and love. She watched them for a moment; the happiness swelling in her heart until she thought it would burst. Then she turned her eyes back to the sky. _'If I still made those W things, I'd want a love like that,' _she thought to herself. 


	9. Bouncing Baby Boy

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Nine

Bouncing Baby Boy

"This day was so great," Buffy sighed as she set the last of the washed and dried dishes in the cupboard. They'd used mostly disposable stuff, but there were still pans and some utensils to clean up. Spike glanced up from where he was seated at the table, the last ale Wesley had brought before him. He watched as Buffy folded the dishtowel and laid it over the bar specifically placed for that purpose by the sink. She stretched gracefully and he smiled. 

"Tired luv?" he asked sympathetically. He'd forgotten how exhausting a full day of preparations and partying could be. Even if it was just themselves, five guests and a barbecue. She nodded and he quickly finished the bottle off, then tossed it in the garbage. He rose from the table while Buffy shut off the lights. He did his now nightly ritual of checking to make sure doors were locked and they were secure in their home. After making sure the deadbolt was locked, he waited for his fiancée at the foot of the stairs. She'd stopped at the basement door and cracked it open to listen for a moment. There was no sound aside from the soft music that Dawn occasionally listened to as she drifted off. 

Buffy joined Spike at the stairs and wrapped her arm around his waist. He did likewise and they made their way to their room. "Everything okay with Red?" he asked quietly. She sighed. After the fireworks were over, the group had returned to the house. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time they'd gotten back. After another half-hour of chatter and snacking, the AI group had declared their intentions to leave. After seeing them off, Buffy had returned to the living room to see Willow distractedly cleaning up. As there wasn't much to actually do, the blonde recognized it for the stalling tactic that it was. 

She'd waited until Willow had run out of things to keep her hands busy. The redhead had finally begun with apologizing for Kennedy's absence. Buffy made it clear that it was the other girls loss. A few jokes and nudging, teasing comments and Willow was able to open up. Spike and Dawn had wisely busied themselves elsewhere in the house. They'd talked over the problems and the feelings and at the end, were no closer to a solution. But that wasn't what Willow needed. She and Buffy both needed to reconnect, to know that there was support for each other that they'd been missing for a while. 

"She's okay," she finally replied. "Things with Kennedy aren't great. And she knows it. I just don't think Willow knows how to end it. I mean, she's never been the breaker upper. She's always been the dumpee."

"I don't think it'll hurt the li'l bint any to be dumped," Spike groused. "Knock her off the pedestal she's got herself on." Buffy giggled as she pulled away from him and rummaged through her drawers. She pulled out a slightly worn nightgown and began stripping off her clothes. Spike was ridding himself of his clothes as well. It was no secret that he'd taken a rather dim view of the girl, mostly from the way she treated other people. It had compounded after her reaction to his being alive again, as if she couldn't understand why he was considered worthy. In her eyes, it had been Willow and the Slayers who'd saved the day, not his burning up and destroying the thousands of Turok-Han that the Slayers hadn't gotten to yet. 

Spike hadn't admitted it out loud, and didn't think he needed to, but Kennedy's behavior towards Willow bothered him. For the most part, he hadn't interfered with the others. He'd been getting better about not constantly blurting out the first thing that came to mind. The bonus of which was that people were more willing to hang with him when he wasn't disparaging them in his insightfully devastating manner. But it was that insight that led him to caring about Buffy's friends beyond what they meant to her. Willow had been friendly to him, if not always supportive. In a way, he also looked on her as part of their little family. So to see Kennedy treating her in the possessive, domineering way the girl had about her made him grind his teeth. It seemed to him that the young Slayer was slowly submersing Willow's personality in her drive to be dominant in everything she did. But it seemed that Willow had a handle on her own life. He wasn't about to interfere and knowingly risk Buffy's wrath by going behind her back. 

As Willow's acknowledged best friend, Buffy took exception to him interfering and trying to make things better. He'd already learned his lesson when he made plans with Willow once that had nothing to do with her. He'd tried to point out that Dawn did it all the time and Buffy had gone off into the boyfriend versus sister tangent as it related to friends. Her logic truly made his head spin at times, and not in the good Exorcist kind of way. More like a triple loop roller coaster that wouldn't stop running until you'd vomited all over the operator. Spike shook his head slightly. He was getting way too introspective for this time of night. Especially when he had better things to do. He kicked his clothes towards the closet so that Buffy wouldn't nag him later. He slid into the bed and held back the covers for her to join him. 

Buffy got into bed, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. She ended up on her side, facing away from him. She felt his hand slide over her hip, his lips seeking the curve of her neck and shoulder. "Mmm," she protested softly. "Sleep Spike." He paused for just a moment, then continued whispering kisses across her flesh. He moved his free hand to splay across her belly, pulling her tightly back against him. She didn't respond and he levered himself up to look over into her face. He was met with a head splitting yawn. 

"You really are tired, huh?" he chuckled. It seemed rare for her to be that worn out. She normally had a spring of energy. She nodded. He tried to hide his disappointment, but obviously didn't manage. 

"You can molest me while I sleep," she teasingly murmured. 

"Not as much fun," he grumbled with an amused smile, "but I'll keep it in mind." She blinked once and rested her head on the pillow again. Spike curled his body around hers and let himself relax. T didn't take either long to drop off.

It was a dream. She knew it was, but it didn't matter. It didn't have the ominous feeling that her Slayer dreams held. But neither did it have the unreal quality that accompanied dreams welling up from her psyche. Instead, Buffy realized that she was dreaming of a place that she'd loved. As she glanced around at the vaguely familiar grass carpeted field, she cocked her head. Each time she dreamt of this place, it was slightly different. As if the passage of time was taking its toll, but so slowly that months could pass between visits and very little had changed. But change it did. She wondered occasionally what this place was changing to, but knew she'd never live long enough to see it in her lifetime. Even if she lived to be one hundred. 

Without aim, she began to wander, taking in the smell of the trees in the distance, carried to her by a warm breeze. She rubbed her hands together as the sunlight played over her face. That was another thing. The sun never stopped shining here. And as she was enjoying it, a faint call finally caught her attention. It always sounded to her like a rabbit squalling at first, but she'd grown used to it. When she thought at all of it, she realized that distance was distorting the sound some. What she didn't question was that every time; the call always came from the direction she was heading. It didn't matter which path she started on; she knew what was waiting for her at the end. 

Time had no meaning for her. She'd get there when she got there and when she finally did, the familiar scene tugged at her heart. In the clearing, the grass gradually formed to a carpeted floor. The world morphed into a small room. It was just perfect, containing a rocking chair and crib. The four walls didn't press in too close and no matter where she sat, the sun shone in through the window on her. Buffy approached the crib eagerly. She peeked over top, wondering if this would be the time when she caught the baby off guard. But it seemed as if he knew when she was close. His crying ceased and he watched for her with avid eyes. His little face broke out in a grin when he saw her. His little body wriggled with excitement. With a joyous cry, Buffy reached in to lift him up. 

With tender hands, she carried him over to the rocking chair. She settled herself in; the baby snuggled in close. "Hey sweetheart," she crooned. He wriggled again and she let him, knowing that she had a secure hold on him. "Did you miss me? I missed you." The baby of course didn't answer, but that wasn't why she was here. She took in his little face, amazed that she had such a connection with him already. She'd read about women who had dreamed of the children they would have. But never had she heard of women who knew exactly what their child would grow to be. Knew his likes and dislikes. Knew how tall he'd be, how strong and noble and brave. But she did. It was this special knowledge of the future that she held deep within herself, to be shared with no one. Not even Spike. After all, it wouldn't be fair to ruin the surprise for him. She didn't mind though. If this was one of the ways she had to be different, to bond with her child before he was even born, she'd take on all the hellmouths the world over to bask in this moment with him. He was just too precious for words. 

They sat together through the night. Buffy talked, hummed and rocked the baby. He on the other hand slept, woke and cooed at her in that order, continuously. She told him about what was happening in her life, not caring that he wouldn't understand. Although it seemed in a way as if he were responding to each worry and burden. It felt good to share these things with someone who couldn't judge her and would be a major part of her life. Of course, that would have to stop once he was in the world with her. She promised herself that her child would have a wonderful childhood, not filled with the grown-up issues that had invaded her life from such an early age. 

She talked as well of her future plans, specifically what she would do with her son. How she'd hold him like this all the time, play with him, feed him, and how eventually there'd be school and sports and then dating and graduation. And she promised that she would be there for it all. He smiled up at her as she said this, as if he knew that she would fulfill that vow, as reckless as it was in her line of work. His innocent belief in her fueled her own confidence in herself. She would do anything in the world to care for this child, her boy once he had arrived. Until then, she'd dream of him, make love to Spike and eagerly wait for the time when all their dreams came true. 

Too soon their time came to an end. She felt her attention fading from him. Something else was clamoring for her attention. She had grown used to this as well. Sighing, she rose from the rocker, moving him back to the crib. He was asleep again, as if he knew of her upcoming leaving and was content to sleep until the next time she came to visit. She bent over to give him a feather light kiss on the forehead. Her eyes grew misty as she contemplated leaving him again. It was getting harder, these dreams. The end of them. But as she floated back to wakefulness, she reminded herself that soon it would be reality and not just a dream. 

With that in mind, she rolled over to wake her lover. It was remarkably easy, a few kisses, an intimate caress and he was awake. But the scamp that he was, pretended to still be asleep. Buffy played along, prolonging the teasing, willing to drive him utterly mad if that's what he wanted. It was only when her mouth enclosed his increasing erection did he give a startled moan and half sat up. Buffy let him loose and smiled up at him. "Good morning," she announced cheerfully, crawling up beside him.

"It was," he grumbled, laying back and flinging an arm over his face against the sunlight filtering in the room. "Until you quit, that is." He moved his arm a bit, peering at her hopefully. She continued to beam at him, her fingers walking along his chest. He watched her with interest; after all, it was his body she was playing with. She continued her teasing until his eyes were ready to cross. This was new. Normally she could only stand so long before she moved things to the next level. He'd never really had to endure more than a few minutes before she took a more active role. But it seemed that this time was all about him. And what his threshold was. He held on furiously to the enjoyment, until it almost became painful, gasping out, "someone's in a good mood this morning."

"You got that right," Buffy chuckled. There were no more words as she attacked him fully, intent on their pleasure. They were both shivering by the time they were done. 

"Now it's a good morning," Spike panted. He placed a kiss on her head as she lay against his chest. She nodded slightly; not capable of forming words yet. "What put you in such a great mood?" he asked curiously. 

"Had a good dream," she replied vaguely. 

"What was it about?" he asked softly. He knew the patterns to her dreams. Knew the pain she endured upon waking after a prophetic dream. The agony of wondering whether it would come to pass. He knew the crankiness that would come if they were dreams of her past. The good humor that accompanied the dreams that grew out of the activities of the day. Loved the dreams that coated her eyes with lust when they opened. But it had been a long time since she'd had a dream that had caused her to wake with a grin on her face, and lightness of spirit. And he wanted to know what it was, most hopefully for a repeat of this morning sometime in the future. 

"This and that," she replied vaguely. She was reluctant to answer. She and Spike had just recently decided to have this baby. She didn't want him to think that she was obsessing about the idea already, even though she was. Just a little. She watched as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Of course, by being vague, she ran the risk of intriguing him further. As she seemed to have done now.

"Really?' he drawled. "And what this and that was going on?" She let out a small giggle.

"Spike, do I honestly have to explain about the birds and the bees?" she taunted. "'Cause if I do, then what the hell were we just doing?"

"The horizontal mambo?" he joked. "Playin' hide the peter?"

"It's wienie you moron," Buffy giggled, tickling his side. 

"I'm a Brit," he defended. "It's my peter."

"Peter is a name Spike," she rolled her eyes at him. "You named your dick?"

"Yep!" He paused a moment, looking horrified. "Don't tell me I never introduced ya properly?"

"Oh," Buffy tried to look horrified as well, failing miserably but playing along. "All this time and I never knew its name. I'm such a slut."

"Ah, but you're my slut," Spike grinned. 

"But I don't want to be a slut," she whined pitifully. She smacked her hand lightly on her thigh. "Well, that does it. No more hanky panky with the wienie until I've been properly introduced."

"Yeah, right," Spike scoffed merrily, his eyes twinkling. Buffy sat up suddenly. "Like that'll last long." She turned to him, her face suddenly serious.

"No Spike," she shook her head. "Think about it. We could, you know, abstain awhile, like until the wedding. And then just think of how great our wedding night would be." She scooted off the bed, gathering her robe from the closet and pulled it on, seemingly unconcerned about his reaction. Which was not good at all. He'd stilled, felt as if the breath had been knocked from his lungs. She sauntered from their room, but as the door was slipping shut, he reacted. He leapt from the bed and yanked the door almost hard enough to pull it from its hinges. He marched into the hallway, to be instantly met with the slamming of the bathroom door. He banged on it and cursed under his breath as he heard the lock click into place.

"Slayer!" he growled loudly. "Open up. There will be no bloody abstaining. Do you hear me?" Silence met his words. 

Buffy struggled to contain herself in the bathroom. Laughing now would just spoil her fun. She leaned against the door, listening to her fiancé ranting about idiotic women and their bloody absurd ideas. Finally she could stand no more and waited until she heard his fist thumping against the wall. She opened the door just a crack, peeking out at him. He had his back to the door and was leaning his forehead on the arm that had just punched the wall, thankfully not at Slayer strength. "Gotcha," she giggled. Spike spun around and charged at her. She opened the door wide; not wanting to see it ruined. 

Spike swept her up in his arms and thrust her onto the counter so that she was eye level with him. "Never do that again!" he growled. She just laughed. "I'm serious," he continued. "Don't even joke about it."

"But your face…" she sputtered, "…so funny…" she gasped. "And the idea…as if." Once he heard that, Spike was able to calm down. He'd endured torture at the hands of Glory and her minions. That was a cakewalk compared to thinking he'd have to wait four months to make love to her again. 

"God, you don't play fair," he complained as she hugged him close to her. 

"Never said I would," she teased. "Now get out. I want to take a nice warm shower and slather myself in body wash, and then…" she trailed off as he groaned, his eyes screwed shut. 

"I hope you realize one thing Slayer," he muttered in her ear. 

"What's that?" she quipped. 

"Payback's a bitch," he warned. With that parting shot, he sauntered back to their room to don some pants before venturing downstairs. More likely than not Dawn was already up. Their morning exercises had taken up a bit of time. Granted, Dawn was on vacation now, but she had outgrown sleeping past noon. But all was silent as he descended the steps. Shrugging to himself, he set about making breakfast. He had everything ready by the time Buffy made her way downstairs. She looked about for Dawn, but Spike just jerked his head towards her door. But it was not as he assumed. He was debating whether or not to risk the teen's wrath by waking her up when Dawn breezed in through the front door. 

"God," she grimaced, "are you two just getting up?" She took in the breakfast and snuck some of the bacon Spike had prepared. "I've been up for hours."

"Yeah right" her sister scoffed. "What on earth would make my little sister get out of bed before eleven if she didn't have to?" With a perky movement, Dawn spun around to grab the newspapers she'd deposited on the counter. Buffy and Spike exchanged a mildly apprehensive look as they recognized the classifieds.

"A job!"


	10. Growing Older, Growing Wiser

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Ten

Growing Older, Growing Wiser

"Oh my God," Buffy groaned, staring at her excited sister. "Dawnie, don't joke, not at this hour of the morning."

"I'm not joking," Dawn grinned at her slightly bleary eyed sister. You'd think that romping around for however long, as Dawn realized they were on her way out and taking a nice hot shower would be enough to wake anybody up. But no, Buffy was still running on Slayer schedule, even having turned in fairly early the night before. "And it's almost noon. Wake up."

"What got your motor revved Nibblet?" Spike asked, settling himself at the table and taking one of the papers from her. She'd already circled a few likely looking prospects. He noticed immediately that they were all part time offers though. 

"Well," Dawn frowned a moment. She had thought a lot about this as she was dropping off the night before and had solidified things in her minds this morning. She just wasn't sure if her sister would be offended by her thoughts. "I'm really glad and everything that you're getting married. But, well, weddings are expensive. And not only that, I'm going to school in the fall. I know that we have that covered, but there are always extra things that pop up. Food, clothes, things I'll need." She paused; knowing this might be the start of a big argument. "And I was thinking, maybe… I could help out around here." She glanced apprehensively at her sister, but Buffy appeared to be deep in thought. The blonde glanced at Spike, as if silently asking his opinion. He shrugged. In all his figuring, he'd rarely calculated in Dawn wanting to work. It just didn't seem feasible when facing a scholastic schedule. But it wasn't his place to dissuade her. 

Their family had established boundaries. And as much as they might chafe at times, they were familiar and all three tended to cling to them at times. To Dawn, Buffy was the Mom. She was the one who put her foot down when Dawn came up with brilliant ideas. She was the one who had to keep Dawn down to earth, get her out of messes and keep her safe. When Dawn had been younger, even as recently as a year ago, she'd often felt betrayed. Buffy was not her mother but her sister. And Dawn had felt that Buffy should have encouraged her more, let her wet her feet. Reach out for some stars and to hell with getting burned. But she had recently come to understand that even before their mother had died, Buffy had been doing her job. Buffy was the older of them and it was her responsibility, however much it annoyed her. Finding out that little sister was really an amorphous blob of green energy only reinforced her feelings. 

And while Dawn had craved a sister who was a friend in her own adventures, she'd managed to find one in Spike. He didn't care if her ideas were dangerous or flighty. He was an active participant in these capers, with a few noticeable exceptions. The most glaring being after Buffy had sacrificed herself. Then he'd done everything he was capable of to fulfill the vow he'd made to take care of Dawn. And at times, he was certainly more of a strict enforcer than Buffy could have ever imagined. 

"You know," Buffy finally spoke, her words drawn out. "I have to be honest Dawn. I don't like the idea of you having to work." Dawn looked as if she were going to protest, so Buffy held up one hand. "Listen. There's a difference between having to work and wanting to work. The thing is Dawn, even though your name isn't on the deed, this is as much your house as the one back in Sunnydale was."

"I know that," Dawn interjected softly and both girls visibly softened. 

"Good," Buffy declared, pulling one of the papers from her hand. "I have an idea."

"What's that then?" Spike asked. He didn't want to interfere, as Buffy seemed very willing to work this out with her sister on their own terms. But neither did he want it to erupt into a screaming match as their discussions did on occasion. He wanted Dawn to be happy in whatever she was doing. 

"I'm thinking," Buffy smiled, "that depending on the kind of jobs that we get, "she indicated Spike and herself, "that if you do get a job, you should keep the money. Part of it could go into savings, and the other you could use for all those things you mentioned." Dawn looked slightly mutinous. 

"But what if you guys don't get jobs soon?" she asked worriedly. "I mean, there's not a lot that any of us are qualified for."

"She's got a point there," Spike snorted. "Not many people in the market for a Slayer whose only experience is maiming and torturing." He spoke of himself only. His education in this world had been somewhat outside the conventional norm. 

"I suppose if I didn't find something right away, I could always go blackmail the local Doublemeat Palace into giving me a job," Buffy chuckled. But then shuddered. The nightmare that was that job was based more in the greasy nature of the food, the clamoring noises of unsatisfied customers and aching feet from standing hours on end without break. 

"I don't think that's the best impression to start out with," Dawn rolled her eyes. The fast food industry was not her first choice for work, but it seemed to be her best chance, as she would only turn eighteen the next day. Not many other places took a chance on a relative kid. 

The conversation lapsed into an almost strategy planning session. Since it was Dawn's birthday the next day, and she was aware of the financial status of the house, she'd privately decided not to make a big deal out of whatever they did. And when Buffy had asked, she'd declared that she was tired of all the celebrating they'd been doing and she just wanted something small. So they'd decided on a pizza-fest and movie night with Willow. Talk went around various subjects, touching on the wedding, jobs, and school, their friends and back around in a circle. Nothing was definitely decided, aside from looking through the classifieds. 

As Spike reasoned out, the summer rush for jobs was over. All the college and high school kids looking for work over the summer would have done so in June. That covered a lot of part time work. Hopefully, that left more of the full-time jobs for them. And as Spike and Buffy were adults with a settled home, they were able to offer a little more stability to their future employers. When taken in that light, their chances seemed good. If only they could reflect it in their resumes. They worked together until late afternoon with each other, trying to decide what to include. Buffy's was the easiest of them all, as she actually had work experience that was recorded in a national database. Eventually, they decided to pick Willow's brain about it the next day. 

***** 

Dawn's birthday rolled about in typical fashion. A glorious sunrise awakened nature in its own fashion. And had the buoyant teen out of bed earlier than normal. It was the one thing she regretted about her new room. The window in the basement was at the lowest level, so she only caught the briefest flare of light as the sun rose. But it was enough to get her moving. She hurried upstairs to get coffee brewing while she took a shower. She tried to be quiet, not wanting to wake the couple. They'd been out late, casing the city for likely looking hot spots when it came to Vampires. The AI team had a fairly good handle on the demon population. So Buffy and Spike were able to get back to Slayer roots so to speak. By mutual consent, the Vampires were theirs. 

Dawn returned to the living room, after procuring a cup of coffee and curled up in her robe on the sofa. She'd pulled open the curtains as wide as they allowed and was now watching the sun's rays peeping over the house closest to them. She sighed with simple pleasure. Things had come together nicely and she allowed herself a moment to feel the peace around her. It was a rare thing, having learned long ago to always allow a small amount of tension to remain inside herself. Living on the Hellmouth and actually being aware of it caused a tiny fissure of caution to flow through her at all times. Even when she heartily ignored the danger, she was aware of its possibility. But in this moment, she knew she was safe. 

But she didn't allow herself to feel it for very long. Dawn knew that she couldn't let her guard down often or it would become luxurious habit. After all, even though LA had no obvious portal to hell in it, there were dangers aplenty. Sometimes more physical than mystical, but they were there all the same. So she wasn't totally surprised by her sister plopping down by her side. She'd sensed it with the intuition that she'd slowly been developing over the years. With a little sigh of contentment, she leaned against her sister as Buffy took the coffee mug from her hand and took a quick sip. 

"Thanks," she murmured. "Needed that." Dawn nodded. She didn't mind as she once might have. It was just coffee. There was more in the pot. But it spoke of familiarity that she'd subconsciously craved since she came into existence. It cheered her that she and Buffy were comfortable enough with each other finally to share things like this. Of course, she had to purposefully ignore the fact that Buffy and Spike often commingled spit, so it wasn't just her sister's spit and germs that she was getting back. 

"I didn't expect you to get up," Dawn replied quietly. "How was patrol last night? I didn't hear you come in."

"Two Vamps, but not in the same place. It was late when we got back," her sister confirmed. "We checked on you and you were pretty zonked."

"That's me," Dawn smiled. "Zonk girl. I could probably give Xander a run for his money some days."

"Maybe you're still growing," Buffy teased. Dawn wasn't going to top six foot, as many of them had teased, but she was definitely a tall and leggy woman now. 

"Good God no," Dawn rolled her eyes. "It's bad enough that I'm made from your genes, don't make me more of a freak."

"Hey," Buffy nudged her sister's curled up leg with her knee. "Those are good genes. Of course, they used up all the terrific stuff on me and gave you the leftovers." It was a common joke between them when Willow had brought up scientific theory in bafflement. When they'd discovered that Dawn had been made from Buffy, Willow had explained that Dawn should almost have been a clone of her friend. Buffy's initial theory, that the monks had made Dawn look different so that the Vampires wouldn't attack her seemed the most likely. After all, why send a girl to the Slayer for protection, just to put her in harm's way in that manner. Because general consensus was that most Vampire's were lucky they didn't need to breath as most were too stupid to even figure that out. 

Things turned quiet once more until Buffy felt the need to speak. After all, turning eighteen, a momentous occasion needed something. "You know, after my seventeenth birthday, Mom asked me if I felt any different. She said I looked different. I always wondered what exactly it was that looked different to her. Sometimes I wonder if she was just seeing me the way she thought she should have then."

"She still didn't know the truth then," Dawn commented softly. It wouldn't be right if their mother weren't mentioned. She still held a very strong place in both their hearts, as it should be.

"Not then, no," her sister mused. "And of course, with everything that happened with Angel, I suppose there was bound to be something in my face that told her all was not well."

"And your eighteenth birthday was no better," Dawn commiserated.

"No it wasn't," Buffy shook her head. They were getting off the topic she'd wanted. "But aside from the way actual day itself turned out, my birthday was important to me. It was a way of physically keeping track of the changes I was going through. And it took me so long to figure something out." Dawn waited for her sister's usually laughable pearl of wisdom. "The thing is, we never stop growing. Mentally, emotionally. Years shouldn't really count. We should always be becoming. Dawn, you don't stop now. Just because you're eighteen, it doesn't mean that you are who you're going to be for the rest of your life."

"I know that," Dawn nearly rolled her eyes. Of course she was going to keep being something. 

"I don't think you do," Buffy sighed. It didn't seem that she was getting through yet. "See, you have plans for the future. School, whatever. But that's not the important thing in life. Living is. Learning things. If you stick yourself on one path and try never to deviate, you're going to be old and worn out before you're thirty."

"So I should be flexible?" Dawn queried, enjoying the mounting frustration in her sister's eyes. She understood where her sister was coming from and what she was trying to say, but some impish part of her liked making Buffy use words. It stroked her own ego a little to show up her perpetually misunderstanding sister with her own grasp on logic. 

"Well, yes," Buffy frowned. "Always flexible. But you should be open to things." She shook her head. "I guess what I'm saying is that I hate the idea that you're growing up. Yet I'm excited at the same time. I feel this sudden urge to give you advice, so you don't end up an emotional wreck like me."

"You're not a wreck," Dawn protested, then thought for a moment. "Well, at least not anymore you aren't."

"Thanks," Buffy dryly interjected. 

"Was that what you learned?" Dawn was curious. "Was the flexible thing what finally let you be with Spike?"

"In a way," Buffy shrugged. She'd tried once before, to explain why she'd chosen Spike over Angel, to the at the time Vampire himself. But at that time, he'd been too hurt to listen and understand. She'd told him before the fight with the First Evil that she wasn't who she was meant to be yet. She still blushed slightly over the whole cookie analogy. Even at her age, stupid things were always popping out of her mouth when least expected. But to take it a step further, she needed a partner in life who was willing to grow with her and apart form her. And Angel wasn't it. She could see that even with the changes LA had wrought in him, he was still stuck. He'd formed an idea about life and was tenaciously clinging to it. 

Of course, she'd never known about the possibility for Shanshu. If she had, she wondered sometimes if it would have made a difference. But knowing what they all knew now, with Max's coming, she was sure something would have broken them apart. Maybe even they themselves would have done the breaking. 

"You know what?" Dawn interrupted her musings.

"What?"

"Even with all the crap we've been through," Dawn sighed as she snuggled close to her sister, "I'm glad the monks chose you."

"Me too Dawnie," Buffy smiled, resting her head on the teen's. "So very glad."

When Spike finally rose from the late night excursion and followed his nose scenting out coffee, he was mildly surprised at his find in the living room. Both women were curled up together. Dawn had her legs pulled up and was snuggled in close, her head resting on Buffy's shoulder. His fiancée had her head resting on her sisters and her legs were up on the coffee table. A coffee mug rested precariously in Dawn's hand and Spike was quick to move it. Preferable to having it spill and cause a large stain. Not to mention that he wasn't sure how hot it was. After watching them for a moment, he went off to fulfill his own need for caffeine. When he returned, they still hadn't stirred, even though it was going on nine o'clock in the morning. He settled into an armchair, drinking his coffee and watching them. It only took ten minutes before Buffy began to stir. He motioned at Dawn and she glanced down at her sister with a smile. 

"You were up early," he commented. It didn't bother him. He understood that there were occasions when it just needed to be the two women. 

"I heard Dawnie this morning," she explained. "And I wanted a chance to talk with her, about… well…"

"Women stuff?" he asked teasingly. They'd been living together for long enough and had been a Vampire long enough that most things didn't bother him any more. 

"Growing up stuff," she corrected gently.

"It's a big day for her," he agreed. "I'm surprised that she didn't want a big blow out."

"Me too," Buffy yawned, shifting her arm slightly to get the kinks out that had developed. "But I think Dawn is trying to shoulder some responsibility. She told us yesterday that she's aware of stuff going on here and as much as I hate her having to deal with it, it hasn't been a problem yet."

"I think in some ways the Nibblet has been too grown up for her own good at times," Spike murmured. He spoke quietly, for the teen had an annoying habit of coming into the middle of a conversation about her and taking things the wrong way. 

"She has," Buffy agreed. "I think we all have. But that's just life."

"And how are you doing with it luv?" Spike asked kindly. 

Buffy turned her fond gaze back to her sister. "I made Dawnie promise to live for me and I think it's time I held her to that. I can't expect to go on with my life and have her remain a little girl forever." Neither noticed Dawn's secret little smile, having been aware of the conversation the entire time.

By the time Willow had arrived that evening, the trio had cleaned the house, made the birthday cake and had ordered the pizza. While they waited, Willow gladly helped them out with their resumes. She'd come up with a cover story of what she'd been doing in Sunnydale for the past few years since quitting college full time. And she was more than willing to share her secrets.

"Actually, I was thinking about all those Slayerettes living with us," she explained. "And I was thinking about how all the different things we had to do with them was applicable to a job."

"So what did you come up with?" Buffy asked. 

"Well, what we had was actually somewhat like a halfway home," Willow enthused. "I mean, these girls weren't running away from home but from intrinsic evil. But we had to take care of them. So I put on my resume that I was like co-director of this home, in charge of all sorts of things to do with providing for these girls."

"An' that impressed some bloke 'cause it was practical experience combined with humanitarian acts," Spike snorted.

"Exactly!" the redhead crowed. "You guys could do that too. I mean, you were housing the girls, training them in self-defense, teaching them to become productive members of society."

"Productive of what?" Dawn snorted. "Beating the crap out of Vampires and demons?"

"Yeah, saying that isn't really smart during an interview," Willow rolled her eyes. "I just maintain that the destruction of Sunnydale caused us to close up shop, but all the girls returned to their homes, happy and fulfilled, at peace with why they came to us in the first place."

"Impressive Will," Buffy complimented her friend as the doorbell rang. "But now, I think it's time to party." Spike headed for the door to retrieve the pizzas and pay the delivery guy. He returned and the group dug into the food as Dawn picked out the video she wanted to watch. They were full of good cheer as they stuffed themselves. 

To Dawn's surprise, she had a good-sized pile of presents waiting for her. Willow had brought not only her own, but also one that Xander had sent, not knowing their new address yet. And the AI team, enjoying taking kids under their wing as Gunn and Fred could attest to, had sent a little something. Not to mention that there was the new outfit Dawn had been eyeing for the last week at the mall. So she was extremely happy by the time they got to the devil's food cake, frosted this time. Spike teased her about the number if candles causing the fire alarm to go off. Dawn teased right back about his true age. He had to shut up then, but was quick to come up with other things. The avid way she attacked her chocolate, her glee at ripping open the presents, threatening her with a birthday spanking, her excitement over the letter Xander had included with his card. 

It was the only low point that evening that Xander wasn't with them. Discussion soon turned to sharing what he'd been relating to them individually. It made for interesting discussion because Xander had turned into quite the avid storyteller. Even Spike was interested, as he could recall from his days in Europe some of the places that Xander talked about. He seemed to be travelling around, finding work as he could. The only strange thing that occurred to them was that he wasn't over Anya yet. Not that he ever totally would be. But he made absolutely no mention of the former Vengeance demon. But her spirit hovered over everything Xander said and wrote. They could all see it. 

Finally Dawn was yawning more than talking. Before anyone could say anything about it, she gathered up her new bounty and said good night. There was a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' s and wishes for pleasant dreams. Dawn descended the stairs carefully as conversation continued between the other adults. She put her stuff in a pile on her bed, indulging in the childish delight of sleeping with her gifts nearby. She opened Xander's letter and reread it, smiling that her good friend had taken pains to make sure she knew he hadn't forgotten her on her special day.


	11. Working Girls

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R 

Chapter Eleven

Working Girls

Funny enough, it was Dawn who first got a job. With no restrictions upon her, aside from the usual chores around the house, and no being alone outside at night, she had a lot of free time. And she also had the energy and optimism to drop her resume off wherever she went, filling out applications when she could. And finally, the flooding of paperwork netted results. As she'd feared, it seemed the only places that were interested were fast food restaurants that had high turnover. But she also caught the interest of a convenience store just down from their house a few blocks. 

It was a brilliant stroke of luck for the teen. She'd been bored one afternoon and decided that after her usual round of job slogging, she was going to stop and pick up a few chocolate bars and a new magazine. She'd been chatting with the cashier as she made her purchases. When she mentioned her aching feet from being all over town, the cashier had prompted her to apply for the opening they had. Dawn had philosophically done her duty, figuring that there was no way they'd hire her. 

She had a moment of panic when she came across a new question on the application. Was she bondable? She asked and the cashier explained about it being the businesses roundabout way of asking if she'd ever been to jail. The woman glanced over the paperwork and noting that Dawn had just turned eighteen the previous week told her to check yes. She figured that in that span of time, it was impossible for Dawn to be convicted of a major crime and sentenced. Everything else would have been on a juvenile record and theoretically sealed off. But these days, there were so many teens and children being tried as adults, it was hard to say. 

Dawn had asked her sister about it when she got home. Buffy was quick to assure her that her shoplifting stint back in Sunnydale shouldn't hurt her a bit. She'd never been charged formally and it had happened while she was a teen. And they weren't even sure that the stores she had stolen from had made notes not to let Dawn back into any other of the chain stores in different cities. Buffy couldn't imagine that they had, as it seemed too much effort for the citizens of that little town to make. 

"But why do they want to know if I've been to jail?" Dawn persisted. "Isn't that like an illegal question to ask?"

"That's not what bonding is about," Buffy clarified as she prepared dinner. Her hands were full of the casserole she was putting in the oven. "The company wants to know if you've ever been convicted of robbery or fraud. Usually the conditions of release or parole on those charges are that you can't hold positions where you deal with large amounts of money. You wouldn't be bondable. But as you've never been convicted of so much as stealing a stick of gum you are therefore, bondable." She shut the oven door and glanced at the table where her sister and fiancé were sitting. Both were gaping slightly at her. She removed the oven mitts and threw one of them down on the counter. "What?" she asked irritably as they continued to stare at her. "I'm allowed to know stuff," she pointed out.

"It's not that," Dawn finally managed to murmur. She exchanged an amused glance with Spike. 

"What is it then?" Buffy sighed. "Is my hair all funny?"

"There's my girl," Spike chuckled as Buffy frantically checked her head, never realizing that she still wore the other oven mitt. Dawn laughed as well.

"No, it's just you explained that really well," she offered. She turned to Spike. "Should we check for Alien invasion?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "I think she just channeled Giles for a minute there."

"Very funny guys," Buffy growled. "Keep it up and you won't be getting any dinner!"

"Is that a promise!" Dawn and Spike spoke together, then burst out laughing. Buffy's culinary skills, by no means perfect yet, still had come a long way. And while they weren't eating gourmet meals, she did manage to make passable food. 

"I'm serious," even as she said it, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Keep insulting me Dawnie and I won't give you a good reference."

"Ha!" Dawn pointed her finger at her sister. "Can't threaten me. I didn't list you as a reference."

Buffy's eyes widened. "I'm heartbroken." She thought a moment about which Dawn could have listed and her curiosity got the better of her. "Who did you put down?"

"Willow, of course and Cordy for personal references," Dawn enumerated. "And my vice principal from school, Mr. Yamashida. And Giles."

"Impressive," Spike grinned. "You really thought that out." He paused for a moment. "Did you remember to ask their permission first though?" Dawn rolled her eyes. 

"Willow and Cordy last week, Giles when he was at the Magic shop years ago and Mr. Yamashida after graduation."

"You asked Giles that long ago?" Buffy was surprised. She took a seat beside Spike. Her sister nodded.

"I figured that all that work I was doing to make up for the stealing should count for something," she explained with a shrug. "I figured it was better to ask Giles than Anya." A sad smile crossed her face. "Who knows what she would have said." All three remembered fondly now, the woman's blunt outspokenness.

And so it was that two days later Dawn was called back to come in for an interview. Even though nervous, it being her first venture into the adult world of work, she handled herself well. And when another two days passed and she'd held off on the offer from the burger joint downtown, the manager of the store called her back. Dawn was overjoyed at being offered the job. The manager was quick to point out that Dawn was on a type of probationary period for the first month. They'd had glowing references from three of those she had listed. Dawn informed the lady that Mr. Giles, the only one of which she actually had work experience with, was on a business trip to London. Dawn had told her this before, during the interview, but thanks to Cordy, was also able to tell the woman that Giles was scheduled to return in less than two weeks. 

In all, it was the proximity of Dawn's residence to the store that really got her the job. Some of the other candidates were hesitant to travel too far for a part-time job. They talked a little while longer, about uniforms, training and wages. Dawn was to start the next morning and put in three hours of training every other day for a week. Then she'd get her schedule for the week after if they were happy with her work. Even though the woman almost sounded like she was going through the mechanics with the teen, Dawn was on Cloud Nine. It gave her a giddy feeling to know that she'd been picked, for whatever reasons out of hundreds, well, maybe ten people. But still, it was ten other people that Dawn had never met, so that counted for something. 

Buffy and Spike were happy for her, and vastly amused by her happy dance. It was akin to Xander's Snoopy dance, but with a tad more grace. She'd tried to pull Spike and Buffy in but they were too busy laughing over her exuberance. But Willow was more than happy to join in when she and Cordy arrived for the celebratory dinner they were having. It was Dawn's way of saying thanks for the kind words they'd spoken about her. After she'd exhausted her need for flailing about, Buffy ushered them into the kitchen. Her meatloaf was actually delicious that evening and the group relaxed and spent the night reminiscing about their Sunnydale days. Of course it had to come to an end when Cordy gasped and her hand flew up to her head. 

"Cordy!" Willow scooted closer to the Seer on the sofa. "Are you okay?"

It took her a moment to answer. "I'm okay."

"What's the matter?" Dawn asked in a low, urgent voice. Cordy leaned back and suddenly recalled that aside from Willow, none of the others had been with her when she had a vision. So she enumerated. "Vision. Slightly painful sometimes, in a headachy way."

"What was it?" Willow started in. "Bad? Should I call Wes and the others? Do you need some water?"

"Slow down Willow," Cordy tried to breathe slowly, hoping to get the excitable redhead to stop babbling a little. "One of these days someone's going to forcibly break you of that habit."

"I know," Willow smiled. "Too many people find it cute. But it gets kind of annoying after a while."

"Uh, yeah," Cordy trilled in complete agreement. She turned to Buffy and Spike. "There's a demon, big, about seven feet tall, mud brown, horns. It's looking for children and it's heading to the promenade." 

Spike nodded, then threw a worried glance at Buffy. She shook her head slightly and he understood. "I think I can handle it, if you ladies want to stay here and keep celebrating."

"It seems strong," Cordy argued. "You shouldn't go alone. I didn't recognize it, so I don't know anything about it."

"I should call Wes then," Buffy said hurriedly. "He can research it, and hey, I bet Gunn would feel really left out if you had a vision and he didn't get to fight the big, bad demony thing."

"Yeah," Spike agreed immediately. "I've been meaning to get to know the bloke. What better way than to kill things together." 

Willow, Cordy and Dawn were all staring at him strangely, but he didn't give them the chance to respond. As he went to collect his weapons, Buffy hurried to the telephone. She punched in the number to AI and was gratified when Fred answered. She asked to speak to Wes, and filled her former Watcher in on the recent developments. He promised to get started researching. He was a little surprised when she asked where she could find Gunn. But he gave her Gunn's cell phone number. She said goodbye and hung up before he could ask any more questions.

She tried Gunn a couple of times before he answered. She felt bad about having disturbed him until he revealed that he'd been working out and hadn't heard the phone ringing. Once she'd told him what was going on, he told her he was game. He didn't bother asking nosy questions, figuring if she wanted him to know why she wasn't out hunting this thing herself, she'd tell him. Plus, he was looking forward to seeing Spike's fighting style. He knew that Spike had been part of Angel's line of Vampires. But on many occasions, his boss had referred to the Childe's fighting style as spastic.

Once Buffy hung up the phone, she nodded to Spike. He'd listened to Cordy's description again, although there really was no need. He insisted that the women stay put, not because they were inferior, but because he didn't want Dawn's night ruined. And that Buffy mildly agreed with him stunned the others enough for him to make his escape. Cordy and Willow had protested again, but Dawn watched her sister suspiciously. It wasn't that she minded having Buffy put her ahead of the slayage, but it was completely out of character. 

Buffy, for her part, was easily ignoring the others as she moved around the living room, picking up coffee mugs and taking them to the kitchen. When she'd woken up this morning, she'd hurried to the bathroom for her morning ritual. She'd gotten halfway through her shower when she realized what day it was. After getting out and wrapping a towel about her overly warm body, she'd mentally done some calculations. With a blazing grin on her face, she'd continued with her ablutions. But she couldn't resist sticking her tongue out at the box of tampons sitting on the shelf behind the hinged mirror. 

Spike had picked up on her jittery excitement immediately upon waking up. She'd refused to tell him exactly what was going on. But later, when he'd caught her quickly counting off days on the calendar in the kitchen, he'd figured it out. There's been a moment where he would have whooped and hollered, but she forestalled him. She didn't want to wake Dawn and she didn't want to discuss it yet. Talking about it was a sure way of jinxing it. So he'd agreed to keep quiet. And then Dawn had her news, and Buffy knew that today was definitely not the day to share. As happy as Dawn would be for them, the teen still couldn't stand being upstaged. Especially by her own sister. 

But the teen did notice as Buffy's hand swept over her abdomen in a curious gesture. She was struck mute again as little signs clicked and fell into place for her. Buffy's exuberant cheerfulness, the way she'd been lingering at the calendar every time she'd been near it. The happiness in Spike's eyes even before she'd related her news. Rubbing her stomach. Not going slaying. She gasped in a little breath of air, exhaling with a soft 'oh!' A strange pleasure filled her as she reasoned out why Buffy had said nothing yet and was prompted to cover for her. 

"You know guys," she addressed Willow and Cordy, "when Spike became a Slayer, they kind of agreed to this thing where occasionally one of them gets a night off. I think it was nice of Spike to go out and let Buffy stay in."

"Well, it is," Willow agreed finally. "It's just not what we're used to."

"Everything's changing," Buffy chuckled. "That's for sure."

"And you know," Cordy nodded thoughtfully, "Spike is right. It will be nice for him and Gunn to get to know one another. I mean, there's plenty of baddies to go around, but eventually I'm sure we'll be working together."

"There you go," Dawn murmured as their friends began to get used to the idea. She quickly introduced a new topic, catching Cordy's attention by describing the uniform she'd have to wear for work. It was enough to get their minds going in a new direction. They finally left, close to eleven, with Dawn ushering them out. They teased her all the way to the door about needing her beauty sleep to face the horrible first day of three hours of work. She took it in the nature it was intended. She returned to the living room and stared at her sister, leaning against the French doors, staring out into the night. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She sighed, realizing that she should wait for Buffy to confide in her. In their home, it was becoming more difficult to keep secrets, as they grew closer together. 

And Dawn, taking her growing up very seriously, understood, as one woman to another, that Buffy needed to keep this little secret just a while longer. Something that was completely hers. So she cleared her throat, and when her sister turned to face her, motioned with a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Good night."

"Good night Dawn," Buffy smiled serenely. "Have a good sleep."

"I will," her sister nodded. "You too." And with that, she hurried down the steps to revel in the thrill of power it gave her to have successfully understood, defended and connected with her sister. And all without said sister being aware of it. 

Spike returned, a few hours later and slipped into the darkened house. He locked the door and checked the main level before heading upstairs. He took a quick shower then slipped into bed with his fiancée. She was hovering on the edge of sleep and rolled over to snuggle up next to his warm body. "Did you get it?" she asked sleepily.

"Saw it, fought it, chased it 'til we lost it," he replied succinctly. Buffy nodded in understanding.

"S'always tomorrow," she murmured, nestling her head on his shoulder. Spike smiled as one of her legs came up to rest between his. His hand moved down slightly to caress her stomach before resting comfortably on her hip.

"That there is luv," he mumbled as sleep began to claim him.

Spike went out hunting again the next evening, starting back at the promenade where they'd first encountered the beast. Gunn was supposed to meet him there. He lingered for as long as he could. But when the other man hadn't shown after half an hour, he moved on to the next likely spot. A park down the street seemed to be the perfect cover for a mud brown demon. 

"Hey!" a feminine voice called after him. He spun around, stunned to see Buffy jogging after him. "Wait up."

Once she'd caught up with him, he spoke harshly. "What are you doin' here?" he demanded.

"Wes called," she explained quickly. "Gunn had a slight accident and they had to take him to the emergency room."

"Is he okay?"

She shrugged. "Just cut himself, but he might need stitches." She glanced around, casing the area. "Wes also figured out the demon. Named Morning-all or something like that. Said it comes to this dimension because its food is in short supply."

"Kids?" he asked with a grimace. She nodded. 

"Apparently, according to his research, the thing wears an amulet to cross over," she continued. "Wes said that if we tear the horns off of its head, then remove the amulet, he'll be sent back and won't be able to return."

"The horn's the power source?" Spike asked, confused. She shook her head.

"He was going on about clans and shame, you know how he can get," she grinned.

He chuckled as well. "Can take the man out of the Watcher's, but not the Watcher out of the man, huh?" He sobered up then. "Still doesn't explain why you're here though. I thought you were gonna stay home, rest and all that good stuff."

"Well, I would have called," she tilted her head to the side, "but I-! Spike, look out!"

Her warning gave him enough chance to turn his head slightly before the Marnigall beast attacked. The thing, definitely over seven feet, picked the male Slayer up easily and threw him out of its way. He could hear the sounds of his lover fighting as he flew through the air. He landed hard, rolling to his side and coming to his knees in one smooth movement. Just in time to see Buffy kick out at the thing's knee. Classic tactics get the thing down on the ground and keep it there. Its leg crumpled underneath it, but the Slayer had forgotten about the other dangers. Spike was to his feet, racing towards it as it happened. The Marnigall struck out hard with its fist. And though she tried to block it, the lucky shot was in, sending her reeling, holding her stomach where it had connected. 

The world went red in Spike's eyes. He was dimly aware of Buffy huddled on the ground, her face contorted in slight pain as she held her stomach and tried to breathe. With heart wrenching pain spurring him on, Spike's world contracted down to pinpoint accuracy. The Marnigall tried to rise, but Buffy seemed to have broken its knee. The thing looked up in time to see Spike flying at him. He swung his arms around to hopefully keep this thing from getting too close. But the demon, while slightly stronger than the Slayers, hadn't counted on facing love, adrenaline and desperation borne of fear.

Spike flew under the Marnigall's arms, tackling it the rest of the way to the ground. He straddled the beast, fists pounding as he screamed expletives at it. His knuckles were bloodied and raw as he pounded the sneering face into pulp. But as he continued to beat it, he dimly became aware of Buffy yelling his name.

"Spike, the horns!" he heard her scream. It was times like this that he desperately wished he still had his demon to help him release his rage. But anger at what the beast had done to his love, to them, spurred him on. He pinned the flailing arms beneath him and with Slayer strength par excellence, reached up to snap the beasts horns from its head. And with no remorse whatsoever, carried the motion through as they broke off at the base and continued right into either side of the beast's throat. Spike listened with satisfaction to the last pitying gurgle the demon made as it ceased to breathe. 

Hearing a slight whimper from Buffy, Spike scrambled off the Marnigall and rushed to her side. She was just standing up, brushing off her behind. "Nice one," she complimented him.

"Buffy, luv," his voice was low, anxious, demanding. "Are you all right? We need to get to the hospital. Are you bleeding?"  


She grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. She hadn't wanted to tell him like this, but knew she needed to, or he'd have a heart attack, worrying over her. "It was a false alarm Spike," she whispered. He stared down at her, uncomprehending. "I was just late."

He sighed as he began to understand. They'd gotten their hopes up for nothing. "I'm sorry luv," he consoled her, wrapping his arms around her and dropping a kiss on her forehead. 

"It's okay," she smiled wanly. "It was probably just stress, what with the moving and the parties and looking for work."

"Probably," he agreed. "Not to mention Slaying, bein' big sis to the Nibblet, keeping house, makin' love."

"A lot on my plate," she sighed, her eyes mockingly wide. "Yeesh, who has time for a job?"

A thought occurred to him then. "That's why you came, instead of callin'?" She nodded. 

"I figured since Gunn couldn't make it, I'd help out. Sacred duty and all that," she smiled ruefully. "But otherwise, I would have called," she assured him. 

"I know," he agreed gently. "There's a lot of things you'd risk to fight evil, but not that."

"Never that," she nodded once. He took her hand and began to lead her away, towards home, but she turned back suddenly. "Oh, the amulet."

"He's dead luv," Spike chuckled. "He's not goin' anywhere."

"No, Wes wanted to study it," she explained. Spike rolled his eyes and turned back to retrieve it. It wasn't hanging about its neck, as he supposed, but around the thing's waist. Spike grimaced as he contemplated exactly where the thing might draw its power. He grunted a little as the body disappeared once the amulet had been removed. But Wes had said it would. He jogged back to Buffy, who was still rubbing her stomach.

"He kick you that hard?" he asked incredulously. Usually the petite Slayer could shake things like that off.

"That and cramps," she enlarged. Spike smiled tenderly at her. 

"Then let's go home, fill up Mr. Hot Water Bottle, find some aspirin and a good mug o' hot chocolate," he planned. Buffy sighed and snuggled into his side, his arm wrapping about her shoulder. 

"Were you always this good to me?" she asked softly.

"I tried luv, I really did."


	12. A Friend In Need

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Twelve

A Friend In Need 

Buffy grinned as she let herself into the house. She'd finally had a good day to kind of make up for the last few crappy ones. "Spike? Dawn? I'm home!" she called out as she flipped through the mail they'd just received. Mostly their first batch of bills. And ads. Buffy picked out the take-out forms and carried the rest to the kitchen. She paused for a moment to listen but heard no telltale sounds of anyone else about. She glanced at the refrigerator, where they normally posted notes for each other. There was one from each of them. Dawn had gone out to start planning her pre-back to school shopping trip. And Spike was off taking care of his job situation. 

They'd both been searching hard, even deigning to apply at the same fast food places that Dawn had been to. Buffy had already gone this route once, knowing the reality of getting into the grease business. So she was even more relieved by her news today. The morning after Spike had dispatched the Marnigall; Buffy had been a little depressed. Rationally, she knew it had been hormones coursing through her body. But she'd put on a brave front before her sympathetic sister and overly cheerful fiancé. It was like they were trying to smother her with their understanding. But they didn't even come close. She'd been dreaming of having a baby for almost two years now. Spike, while he'd talked about it with her, hadn't started looking forward to it until a few weeks ago. 

And Dawn, she was still young enough to not know the yearning that possessed Buffy. She'd idly wondered once why her biological clock seemed to be ticking now. Why it was so early. But she'd shrugged it off as Slayer physiology. Everything in her life happened to her young. This was just keeping in the pattern. That morning, after Dawn had gone for her job training and Spike hurried off to begin pampering her, she'd given in. As soon as she heard the roar of the DeSoto's engine, she'd broken down. She'd soaked both pillows, the comforter and a great deal of the sheets before she was done in the bedroom. And then in the bathroom in the shower. And then in the empty bedroom beside her own. 

After that, while she made up the bed with the extra sheets and carried the wet ones to be laundered, she'd chastised herself for losing it like that. It had only been their first real try. And what she'd said before made sense. Every conception was a miracle in and of itself. She and Spike just hadn't connected in exactly the right moment. And as for their hopefulness, well, things were stressful. It wasn't as if she'd never encountered this problem before. In high school, she'd always been on the wacky cycle due to the ever-increasing apocalypses she'd faced. And tests. Big tests that she wasn't prepared for always threw her off. 

After Spike had returned with bagels, cream cheese and mochas, she'd convinced him that she needed to get out of the house. They ended up at the closest mall. And it was there that Buffy had seen a woman posting a 'Help Wanted' sign at the front of a bookstore. She'd felt almost as if fate were slapping her across the back of the head. She'd been suffused with the bookiness for the last almost ten years of her life. Why would that change now? Ignoring Spike's earlier request that she stay put for a moment, she'd hurried into the store, catching the woman behind the counter. She noted that the woman's tag proclaimed her the manager. She'd greeted Buffy with a smile, which widened when Buffy requested an application.

"I certainly didn't expect a response so quickly," the woman shrugged. She offered to let Buffy fill it out at the end of the counter. It was quickly done and she slipped out a folded resume that she had kept in her purse for such an occasion. The woman glanced at it briefly, commenting on her stint as 'library assistant' and her occasional work at The Magic Shop. They related directly to the work to be done in a bookstore. Buffy thanked her and the woman promised to look it over at the earliest possible moment. The opening was to be immediate, within the next two weeks and they needed someone for a full-time position. 

Two days later, Buffy had been called back for an interview. She'd been happy for it, even though it meant being inundated with books again. Spike and Dawn had teased her, of course. There wasn't a day that went by in their home when someone wasn't teased. Buffy had done her best to pick out her most professional looking outfit from her still meager wardrobe. Over the last few years, she'd been going more for the comfortable stylish than the impressible stylish. She'd finally chosen a simple black skirt and a pinstripe shirt she'd pilfered from a happily not-so-ignorant Spike. With glee, she'd slipped on the Nine West shoes she'd treated herself to last year and had only worn twice since. 

The interview was amazing. Buffy and Daphne, the manager had an instant rapport. Buffy quickly found out that it was Daphne's first managing stint and was only a few years older than she herself was. They'd gone over the usual requirements and then Daphne had asked some abstract questions about the book industry. Buffy had been a little flustered, because she actually knew very little about the process of making and selling books. Her experience was more the open a really dusty tome and bore yourself to sleep type. But this place for the most part sold novels and how-to books. 

But then Daphne had chuckled about how Buffy's experience at The Magic Shop might come in handy for some of the special orders they handled. The comment intrigued Buffy enough for her to encourage the woman to go on. It seemed that they had a mild trade in obscure books that interested mainly kids invested in role-playing games. Daphne showed Buffy the microfiche that they kept, rattling off a list of books that they'd had come in recently. One of which Buffy actually remembered from her days in high school. She'd murmured about how Wes and Giles would've had a field day, sussing out the kids who owned these potentially dangerous books. 

It was not something she'd thought about. That her job could actually be useful aside from paying the bills. And a fifteen- percent employee discount off special orders would give Wes a happy like he'd never had. At least not that she wanted to imagine. But Daphne asked again what she'd said and she quickly explained that her friends were interested in similar books. Daphne had near gone ecstatic at Wes' name. 

"He used to date Virginia Bryce, didn't he?" she'd asked in a little gasping breath. Buffy had shrugged and nodded, hoping she wasn't lying. She had no idea that Wes had ever dated someone that was well known. At least well known to somebody. She'd never heard of Virginia Bryce before. It set Daphne off even more and Buffy debased herself a little by offering that as Giles was still out of the country, Wes was her alternate reference. They'd also worked together while she was in high school. Although not quite in the capacity that a manager of a store would expect. She handed over the AI number with just the tiniest qualms, hoping that she could get ahold of Wes and explain what was happening before Daphne did. 

She did manage to and Wes understood about what she'd done. He hadn't actually thought of Virginia for quite some time. And even though he wouldn't say it aloud, it fed his occasionally faltering ego that someone remembered who he was. It also didn't hurt that Buffy had turned to him. Granted, he was being used as a substitute for Giles, but after admitting that he wasn't cut out for the Watcher's life, he'd been mostly able to get by the jealousy he'd carried for the man. 

And that brought Buffy to this day. Daphne had called this morning with the news that she was still considering one other candidate, but she wanted to talk to them both again. So Buffy had met her in the food court of the mall. Over a brief lunch for Daphne and coffee for Buffy, they'd discussed the specifics of the job. Apparently, the other women that the manager had been considering told her flat-out no to the second interview request. She'd rethought things and didn't think selling books was cool. Daphne had laughingly chastised herself for even considering a college student. 

So Buffy had the job and was to start training the next day. After Daphne was done her meal, they'd headed back to the store. Daphne had introduced her to the assistant manager, Janet and one of the three part-timers, Teresa. The full-timer that Buffy was replacing had already slipped off for her scheduled lunch break when she saw Daphne return. Buffy was informed that the woman's husband was with the police force and had been reassigned to another city. They'd been expecting it, but not as quickly as it had actually happened. Well, their big move was also Buffy's and she was glad of it. The job seemed fairly easy. She'd learn how to shelve books, which she kind of already had figured out. She did know the alphabet after all. She'd learn to run the till, use the computer, do special orders, learn inventory and would help Janet occasionally with ordering books and making displays. Her hours were from nine in the morning until six, but it included a half-hour lunch break and two fifteen minute breaks in the back room of the store. So it was only eight total hours working. She'd start at minimum wage and would be evaluated after three months. 

Buffy sighed as she pulled open the refrigerator to stare at the contents, that evening's dinner on her mind. She glanced up at the clock, noting that it was early yet, only four-thirty. She pulled a bottle of water out and nudged the door shut. She moved to the living room, wondering what to do while she waited for Spike and Dawn to get home. It was then that she noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. She hurried over to it and pressed the playback button. She grinned when the familiar British accent filled the room.

"Oh blast these infernal machines," Giles sputtered. It was almost as if he were standing right next to her. "It's Giles and it's eleven o'clock, here that is. And I'm not leaving a message." Obviously in reply to their prerecorded directions on the machine. "I suppose I'll try again in a little bit." There was a click and nothing else. Buffy shook her head and erased the message. Giles would just never change. Not when it came to technology, which he considered everything that plugged into a wall socket to be part of. 

She settled on the couch, picking up one of Dawn's discarded magazines. She was flipping idly through it, only mildly concerned with how out of the loop she'd grown since the Sunnydale days. But that made sense. She was growing up and growing apart from the teenage mindset. But in some ways, she still had yet to feel like an actual grown-up. Part of her would always try to preserve some semblance of innocence that she'd lost at such a young age. Just as she was beginning to become engrossed in a fashion tip article, the phone rang again. Buffy set the magazine down; waiting a moment to make sure it wouldn't slide shut and jumped up from the couch. She answered on the third ring and was again hearing a friendly voice. 

"Well at last," Giles huffed. "I've been trying every ten minutes since I left that message."

"No need for the snarkiness Giles," Buffy grinned. "I just got home a few minutes ago."

"Oh, everyone was out then?" he asked, slightly more polite and more like himself. 

"Yeah, it's four-thirty something here," Buffy explained. 

"Yes, I know that," Giles sighed. Obviously he had no trouble remembering the time change, unlike certain petite blonde Slayers. "I just suppose I believed you'd be home at this hour."

"The old me would be," Buffy confirmed easily. "But the new job Buffy won't be."

"Oh heavens," Giles chuckled, "you've managed to find employment then?" He didn't wait for her affirmation. "Where at then?"

"A bookstore," she rolled her eyes, just imagining his giddiness. "Just a run of the mill bookstore. That sells books. Oh and magazines. And bookmarks. Even pens occasionally."

"Yes," he interrupted dryly. "I'm kind familiar with stores of that nature."

"And potentially dangerous demon raising manuals," she threw in casually. Her lips twitched mischievously as she heard him sputter. "Don't worry, got that under control. I'll pass these kids names on to Wes and the others. Daphne, the manager thinks they're using them in their D&D games."

"I should bloody well hope not," Giles sounded and most likely was outraged. 

"And that's not all the news," Buffy continued before they became lost on a tangent. "Dawn found a job too."

"She did?" he sounded pleased. "Well good for her. What kind of work?"

"Part time at a convenience store," she elaborated. "Spike's still looking though."

"It sounds as if you're settling in nicely then," the tone was hopeful now. 

"And…"

"Dear lord," he chuckled, "there's more?"

"Spike and I got engaged," she blurted out in a rush. "On the Fourth of July. You should see my ring. It is so gorgeous. And everyone was thrilled for us. Which was really sweet. And it was just an amazing moment. Cause I wasn't really paying attention. So we just had to celebrate. I mean Spike and I. We celebrated with the others later." Giles let her continue until she ran out of steam.

"That is extraordinary news," he praised her; having been expecting this ever since Spike was resurrected as a human. "Congratulations to you both. When will it be?"

"Halloween," she chuckled. He laughed along with her, understanding the implications of the date as well. They continued to chat and Buffy filled him in on the fact that his references would still be required. Which led him to explain the main reason for the phone call. His plans had been pushed back a little. He had been unable to stop over in Denver to see Faith, so he'd be accomplishing that on the way back. The plan now was that he'd be back in LA on the fourth of August. Just over two weeks away. And he very much wanted to take her, Spike and Dawn out for dinner. 

Buffy could tell that he was hiding something from her. She tried her best to wheedle it out of him, but he stuck firmly to his guns. Only when he assured her that it was in no way apocalypse related, did she give up. She'd just have to wait to find out. They finally said their good-byes, Giles promising to try and call once more before coming home. Buffy set the receiver back in its cradle as Spike made it home. She greeted him with an enthusiastic kiss before he even got the door shut.

"Someone's had a good day then?" he smiled affectionately at her. 

"Giles just called," she grinned. He rolled his eyes, a habit he'd picked up from her and seemed to be employing more as the days went by. 

"Some would consider that bad news," he teased. "So what big bad is coming our way?"

"Faith," Buffy shrugged. Spike whipped around and gaped at her.

"Don't tell me the bint's gone plonkers again?" he groaned. Buffy giggled.

"No," she shook her head. "He wanted to let me know that he'd be delayed a few days 'cause he still hadn't talked to Faith about her getting a house."

"Oh," he nodded. "That's okay then." He paused a moment. "What else did ya talk about?"

"Oh I told hi all our good news," she smiled and tilted her head to the side. She moved towards him and he automatically wrapped his arms around her. "Our news, for which he sends his congrats. Dawn's news, which made him happy. And my news."

"Your news?" she'd lost him on that one. She nodded. "Oh, the job interview." She shook her head.

"No, not interview. Welcome to your new job, you start tomorrow."

"You got it?" he asked excitably. She nodded again. 

"And I suddenly feel the urge to celebrate," she whispered huskily as she pulled him towards the stairs. 

"Anything you want pet," he growled softly. He took the first step just as the phone began to ring. He paused, but Buffy tugged on his hand. 

"Let the machine pick up," she instructed. "If it's earth shattering they'll call back right away." Spike shrugged and with a wolfish grin chased her up the stairs. 

***** 

Connor had spent the last few weeks, almost alienating everyone around him. There were things going on in his life that he just wasn't able to share with people. Not because he didn't trust them, but because they'd believe him to be crazy. And it wasn't just one thing; there was a multitude. And it went back quite a ways it seemed. Perhaps even his whole life. After returning home with Alyssa for his family's annual Fourth of July barbecue, things had become worse. After taking Alyssa home and returning to his parent's house, he'd subtly questioned them about Buffy. But they'd been completely blank on her name. They had no idea who she was. Neither did they now Joyce or Hank. And he'd been extremely perplexed. He wondered if maybe he'd met her through one of his babysitters when he was a toddler. There had been occasions when his parents had hired them, for their own evenings out. But he didn't have one steady sitter as a child. There's been many. And Buffy couldn't know them all. And that explanation certainly didn't explain why she'd never changed. 

He'd continued to think about it, most of his waking hours and part of his dreams as well. Always waking in a peaceful manner after those dreams, until reality set in and he remembered why they were wrong. He felt so comfortable around Buffy, in life and dreams that he couldn't imagine why she'd been lying to him in this strange manner. And as he wasn't finding any plausible explanations, his mind began reaching for the implausible. 

After his very first run in with a demon with Max and Angel, he'd deliberately blocked it from his mind. There were just some things about this world that he wasn't ready to accept yet. But at his friend's wedding reception, he couldn't deny Lorne. He'd gotten a crash course in demonology from Max's friend Cordelia. She'd been sure to stress the fact that not all demons were evil. And not all demons looked as Lorne and that other one did. There were some that carried human facades. And as ridiculous as it sounded to him, he began to wonder if that's what Buffy was. Some sort of fiend in human disguise. But that didn't explain her sister. Unless Dawn was a demon as well. 

He'd eventually made himself dismiss that notion. Angel and his team at the detective agency fought these things. They certainly wouldn't be palling around with them, would they? That made no sense whatsoever, for all the so-called good demons that Cordelia had enumerated on. Except for Lorne obviously. But there were always exceptions to the rule. And nobody who'd ever met Lorne could dislike the guy. 

Finally though, the thoughts chasing themselves in circles in his head was beginning to affect the rest of his life. He wasn't sleeping well every night. He often became distracted at work, and had earned a reprimand from Roy because of a customer complaint. He hadn't called Alyssa once since she'd left and had been short-tempered the only time she'd called him. He was blowing off his other friends and spending more time alone with his rampaging ideas. It just wasn't healthy, this new obsession with the impossible to find truth. 

He'd resolved a few days ago to try and talk to someone about it. But the people, who he was most comfortable with, Max and Angel, were still on their honeymoon. Connor might have turned to Cordelia, but he didn't know her well and she seemed fairly busy. Every time he'd called AI, he'd gotten the answering machine. He always supposed that he could go straight to the horse's mouth and talk to Lorne. But he had no idea how to get in touch with him. 

He was pulled out of his reverie by an outraged feminine screech. His gaze shot up to narrowly avoid mowing down a woman walking down the sidewalk. As he jerked the handlebars, the front wheel wobbled out of control and he gracelessly collapsed into a heap just past the young woman. After lying on the ground for a moment, Connor groaned. He'd banged his knee pretty good on impact. But suddenly, his vision was filled by hair, A lot of it. 

"Are you okay?" the hair asked. A slim hand came up to push some of it out of the way and he concentrated on the features underneath. 

"Oh, hey Dawn," he greeted with a smile as her hand descended to help hi up. "Yeah, I'm okay. How about you? I didn't hit you, did I?" She pulled him to a stand and he winced slightly as his weight settled partially on the sore knee. 

"No," she shook her head, helping to dust him off. "You swerved just in time. She brushed the smudge of dirt from her hand and swiftly picked up the shopping bag she'd dropped to help him. She also grabbed up his backpack that had slipped off him somehow. She handed it to him with a small grin. "Boy, you really mean it when you say you ran into someone."

"Ha ha," he joked sarcastically. "I'm sorry. Just was kind of distracted."

"And by the look on your face it wasn't a tall busty blonde in a short skirt kind of distracted," she surmised with a grin. Connor laughed despite his earlier surliness. 

"No, just some personal stuff, is all," he shrugged, then leaned over to pick up the bike. Seeing the look of interest on her face, he sought to change the subject. "Say, I heard about your new job. Congratulations."

"Thanks," she beamed at him. "It's pretty cool so far, but it's only part-time. Not a lot of hours." She paused and looked at him wonderingly. "Who told you though and why didn't I know I've got friends bragging on me?" she asked lightly. 

"Oh, uh Buffy told me," he said quickly. Which was the truth. But the odd part was that he couldn't really remember when or how, just knowing that she'd mentioned it. 

"Oh, cool," Dawn grinned. Her big sister was getting sweeter by the moment it seemed. With silent agreement, they began walking together in the direction Dawn had been heading. "Hey, why don't you come over for dinner? Unless you're still working, that is."

"Oh, no," he protested immediately. "I couldn't. I mean, I don't want to intrude."

"Wouldn't be an intrusion," Dawn shook her head. "Buffy would love to see you."

Connor stared into her face, seeing such openness and honesty there. It was so strange that he felt he could believe her based on her words alone. He did know that Buffy would love to see him. But how strange was it that he knew nothing of Dawn but what Buffy told him. If he'd known Buffy all his life, shouldn't he have known Dawn? There was confliction there. He trusted this teen more than he should have for someone he didn't really know. But the effect of not being sure of his relationship with Buffy was slowly driving him mad. He needed answers. Maybe Dawn was the one to answer them. If she knew, that was.

"Dawn," he began hesitantly. She said nothing, just waited for him. "I have something strange to ask. You might think I'm crazy, but I'm not."

"Never good words," she half-smiled, trying to put him at ease, "but go ahead."

"Well see," he tried to ease into the explanation, " when I had first met Max, we were attacked, by this thing." Dawn nodded. "And then there's Lorne." Right then she saw where he was heading.

"And you want to know if demons are real?" she surmised. He shrugged.

"I kind of know they are, unless Lorne is a really amazing figment of our collective imagination," he scoffed. "But that's not possible." Dawn giggled just a little, thinking of herself in just those terms on occasion. The feeling had lessened over the years, but in odd moments, it was still there. 

"You'd be surprised," she rolled her eyes. "But yeah, Lorne is real. Are you having a hard time dealing with this earth-shattering news?"

"Kind of," he sighed. "I mean, I think I can handle demons. But Max and Cordelia both said that there was more to it. That some are good, some bad. And they don't all look the same."

"Oh," Dawn nodded. "I can see this might take a while. What say we go get some coffee and talk?" He nodded with relief that he might finally get some answers. He watched as she called home and left a message for her sister. When she hung up her cell phone, he stopped her with one hand on her arm.

"Thanks Dawn," he smiled. "I guess I just need a friend I can talk to."

"No problem," she returned. "Anything for a friend of Buffy's." He nodded and they set off for coffee and conversation. Connor wondered exactly how he'd bring up these false memories he seemed to have of her sister. Dawn wondering exactly how much she could explain without him asking too many detailed secrets, for not all of them were hers to tell. 

***** 

Buffy and Spike returned to the living room, noting immediately that the house was still empty. It was past dinnertime and Buffy was a little ticked off that Dawn wasn't home, until Spike caught the machine blinking its little red light at them. He hit the play button and Dawn's cheerful voice greeted them. "Hey guys, it's me. It's uh, just after five. I ran into Connor and we're going to go get coffee And thanks for bragging about me and my job to him, Buff. That's so sweet. Anyway, I should be back by six, six-thirty at the latest. See you then."

Spike turned to his fiancée. "There you go luv, she'd having coffee with the boy." He noticed the odd look on her face. "What'sa matter?"

"I haven't been bragging about Dawn," she said, her face twisted with uncertainty. "And certainly not to Connor. I haven't talked to him since before the barbecue."

"Huh," he muttered, then shrugged. "Well, maybe he heard it somewhere else and just forgot."

"Maybe," Buffy agreed, but still, couldn't help gnawing her lower lip wonderingly. 


	13. Spell It Out

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated- R

Chapter Thirteen

Spell It Out

"And that's it," Dawn concluded, reaching for the lukewarm coffee she'd been ignoring while giving Connor the gist of their 'reality'. 

"Amazing," Connor stared at her. So much information had been thrown his way the last hour. Demons, witches, hell gods, different dimensions. He slumped back in his chair. When he'd sat down to talk with Dawn, he'd been hoping to find the answer to his problem. Instead of one, he now had many. Sort of. If what she'd said was true, and he was fairly certain that her imagination couldn't have been that productive, then there were many avenues of interest for him to pursue. But at the moment he latched onto the most likely seeming. Witchcraft. Dawn, without mentioning names, had told him about some of the spells she knew of or was involved in. 

"It is, isn't it," she agreed with a smirk, then sighed. "I mean, if I hadn't lived most of it," she grimaced slightly as she said this, "then I would never believe it." She tilted her head to gaze consideringly at him. "You do, don't you? Believe me, I mean."

"Oh yeah," Connor nodded quickly. "I believe you. It's just, well…"

"A lot to have on your plate?"

"The whole table I think," he chuckled. "I have a question though."

"Just one?" she teased. "I would have a couple dozen."

"Well, I do," he shrugged. "But one kind of sticks out."

"Okay, shoot," she offered, squaring her shoulders. 

"Um, these witches you know," he began. She nodded. "Did they ever, like, do a spell that, well that affected a person's memory?"

"Oh sure," she chuckled. "And it did not turn out well." She glanced down at her coffee cup. Her eyes teared up as she recalled the spell Willow had done that precipitated the loss of Tara in their lives. The first time that was. At least then, she'd still been alive. She'd still spent time with Dawn, like the dedicated friend and pseudo big sis she'd been. 

"So it's possible?" Connor breathed a sigh of relief. It felt that he was finally getting somewhere on his self-appointed quest to keep himself from insanity. But now Dawn was staring at him strangely. She was astute, he realized at her next question.

"Do you think someone's been tampering with your memories?" she demanded softly. If she were correct, whoever it was would be in a world of hurt, judging by the anger she saw in his eyes.

"Well, yeah," he grunted. "Well, I mean I think so. I'm not sure, but some things just don't add up."

"Why don't you tell me then," she suggested gently. Connor ran a distracted hand through his hair. 

"See, a few weeks back," he began. He wasn't sure that he wanted to tell Dawn that it was her sister that was involved in this. But she'd withheld names he was sure, and figured she wouldn't mind him doing the same. "Well, I was visiting a friend. And I looked at… him, I mean really looked. And I realized that, even though I knew…him, my whole life, he hadn't changed one bit."

"Is he old?" Dawn asked calmly. Seeing how her entire life was a tampering instigated by monks, she wasn't overly perturbed at the idea. At least not lately, now that she was actually making something of the life she'd been given. 

"No," Connor shook his head. "Just a few years older than me."

"But he hasn't changed how?" she asked. "Personality wise, or physical?"

"Physically," he answered shortly. Dawn thought for a moment, tapping her finger against the rim of her cup. 

"You know Connor," she started slowly, "I can't say for sure. I mean, memory tampering is what it sounds like to me. But I'd need to check with a few sources, before I could say so. And even then it might not be definite." He deflated a little. It would have been so easy for Dawn to say yes, absolutely, there's the answer to all Connor's problems. 

"How could you know for sure?" he demanded. Her finger continued tapping as she sorted things out in her mind. 

"Well, I could talk to my witch friend," she offered. "I'm sure she would know how to figure out if that's what this is. But I think she'd actually need to see you, to you know, determine if a spell was put on you."

"Do you think she'd do that for me?" Connor asked hesitantly, his hopes starting to rise again.

"I'm pretty sure she would," Dawn chuckled. In fact, she knew Willow would. The redheaded Wiccan had commented occasionally on what a good kid Connor was. And if it were Dawn doing the asking, it would be a shoe-in. It wasn't as if Willow were hiding who she was, for Dawn not to have mentioned her by name. But Dawn understood that this, like many things in her friend's life was not for her to tell. So if Willow wanted Connor to know she was a witch, then she could tell him herself. 

It felt slightly odd to Dawn to guard her tongue as carefully as she did. Connor was Buffy's friend, yet he wasn't in the complete know. Dawn was so used to everyone around her knowing the truth about her sister, that she felt a little awkward in Connor's presence. But she was sure that once she talked to Willow, that would be remedied soon. After all, once one secret slipped, the rest were bound to follow. 

"Okay," Connor grinned. He drained the last of his coffee and stood. Dawn followed suit. Connor pulled a notepad from his backpack and quickly wrote out his phone number to his apartment and slid it into Dawn's hand. "Call me as soon as you know something. I mean, either way…"

"I'll let you know," she smiled as she folded the paper and slipped it into her pants pocket. She bent over to pick up her bag and when she straightened up, held out her hand. "It was good to see you."

He clasped her hand, squeezing slightly in gratitude. "You too." He shouldered his backpack and turned to head out the door. Halfway there, he turned back. "Oh Dawn?"

"Yeah," she lifted her chin to catch his words. 

"Um, I'd really appreciate this if you didn't mention this to anyone else," he almost pleaded. "I mean like Buffy. O-or Spike," he added quickly, before she could ask why just her sister. But she didn't ask. Just nodded her head and made a locking motion on her lips. He grinned at her sudden childishness. "Thanks. Catch you later."

"Bye!"

***** 

"I'm just saying, it's strange," Buffy repeated for the umpteenth time scowling at her fiancé.

"And I'm sayin' he's a kid," Spike rolled his eyes. "He probably forgot who told him and just said your name. It happens all the time."

"But it makes no sense," Buffy protested. "I haven't talked to Connor since I invited him and Alyssa to the barbecue. And who else does Connor know that would tell him about Dawn?"

Spike's chair at the table he'd been reclining in came down hard with a thump. He really couldn't understand why she was so upset. "Let's see," he began mockingly, "there's Cordelia, Wes, Willow, Kennedy, Gunn… gee, really nobody at all." Buffy opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, looking chagrined.

"I'm freaking out over nothing, aren't I?" she asked in a little voice. He nodded and held his arm out to her. With a sigh she left the wooden spoons in the salad bowl and moved to sit on his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. 

"A little," he agreed," but I can't see why."

"I don't know," she offered immediately. And she didn't. But Connor saying that she was saying things when she hadn't really irked her. It wasn't that she was angry with the boy. It could have been an honest mistake. But something about the whole thing felt off to her, and not in a normal everyday kind of sense. "I guess, after everything we've been through, you know with all the wishes that were made and all the miscommunication with our friends and between us, I guess I just try to watch what I say. Even if it doesn't always work out that way and my mouth gets ahead of my mind, at least I remember what I said. So for someone to come along and say I said this, but I didn't, makes me kind of nervous."

Spike grinned at her. "I think I got about half of that. But you said it, so you'll remember for us both." She grinned a little at his effort to put her at ease.

"I already remember plenty for us both," she argued back good-naturedly. "Who remembers to buy groceries and pay bills and when people's birthdays are?"

"And I love you for every bit of it," he assured her with a peck on her nose. She grinned and jumped up from his lap. 

"And here I thought you just loved me for my body," she chuckled. "Now I find my mind is in the package too."

"Uh, it always was," Spike shrugged. "Unless you had a lobotomy that I din't know about."

"Spike," she squealed indignantly before laughing. They heard the front door slam just before Dawn announced herself. The teen bounded into the room, dropping her bags on the nearest counter. Buffy slapped Spike's hands away from her ticklish spot he'd been reaching for. Her hands automatically reaching for the shopping bag. "Hey Dawnie, find anything good?"

"Oh yeah," she enthused, her eyes almost glazing over. "Couple of the stores, fabulous. Check it out." Buffy pulled a multi-toned green striped shirt from the bag and gasped over the price tag.

"Dawn-!"

"Flip it over," the girl grinned. Buffy did so and gasped again at seeing the sixty- percent off sticker. 

"That's my girl," she crowed. "Got my shopping sense and good taste." She continued to look through the few things her sister had bought. Then she sent her off to put the things away so they could eat. They'd just been waiting on her. 

While they enjoyed dinner, Dawn filled them in on her chance encounter with Connor. She kept her promise to him, just telling the others that he'd been unable to come for dinner, so they had coffee to catch up with each other. Buffy told her sister about her new job and Giles' call. Spike laughed over the many places he'd been to that day, looking for work. He soon had them in stitches, making them imagine him in many guises, from fry-boy with an accent to ultra suave British investor with billions to spend. They sympathized with him about the lack of work for such an industrial productive man such as he. 

"Let's face it honey," Buffy giggled as she cleared the food to make room for dessert, "if you could get paid for drinking beer and watching TV, we'd be set for life."

"You know," Dawn chimed in, "you could always check out the breweries. They're always looking for someone to test the effects of their new blends on. Of course they'd have a tough time with you. You're insane whether you're drunk or not."

"Oh ha ha Nibblet," he growled. "You know nothing about alcohol, Miss One-glass-of-champagne-is-more-than-I-can-handle."

"Well," she winked mischievously, "I'll give you that about the champagne. Beer however…"

"Dawn, you better not say anything else," Buffy warned, fully aware that her sister had experimented a little once she was on her own so to say. She knew, because it was what she would have done, and honestly had done in the past. She gestured with her head to a scowling Spike. "Keep going an somebody might blister your butt raw."

"No," Spike disagreed mildly, "I was thinkin' more along the lines of makin' her drink until she puked it all back up again. That'd teach her a right bright lesson."

"Been there, done that," Dawn muttered sotto voce. Then realized her mistake. Buffy turned amused eyes to her sister and mouthed the word 'run'. Dawn took her advice immediately as she leapt from her chair.

"Gotta make some phone calls, no dessert for me, bye bye!" she shrieked as she disappeared down the basement steps. Spike laughed at her antics while Buffy sliced the leftover cake. 

"One of these days she's going to catch on," Buffy giggled. 

"She has," Spike shrugged, "jus' all part of the game." He glanced up when the knife clattered back to the plate. Buffy's eyes were wide and she was smiling tremulously. "What is it, pet?"

"You," she whispered. "You're going to be a great dad."

"Course I am luv," he retorted immediately. "You're the one who always bollocks things up."

"Spike!" her jaw dropped. But the glint in his eyes told her he was just pushing her buttons, so naturally she played along. "Need I remind you of your infamous 'plans'?" She made quote marks in the air.

"Hey," he growled, "a lot of those were good plans. 'Til you came along bollocksin' things up, just like I said." The argument went south from there, deliberately goading each other until Spike finally hauled his fiancée over his shoulder and took her upstairs to show her just which of his brilliant plans succeeded admirably. And the slightly stale cake became a little staler.

***** 

Dawn rushed home as quickly as she could. A customer, dropping a pop had created a mess similar to a Bimoron beast when it exploded did. And Dawn had had to clean it up, causing her to get off work late, and be covered in sticky cola from near head to foot. Which of course meant she absolutely had to shower before she could meet Connor like she had planned. While she hurried home, she called his cell and told him that she'd just meet him at the Hyperion.

After they'd met for coffee that first time, Dawn had done as promised and called Willow. She'd outlined what she could, not mentioning Connor's name. Willow had been agreeable to seeing him, especially when Dawn mentioned that it was someone they already knew. Willow was by no stretch ignorant and had a fairly good idea of which Dawn was referring to. So she'd given her permission for Dawn to tell Connor that yes she was a practicing witch. 

That call had been made and Dawn was surprised that Connor reacted as well as he did, given some of his earlier comments. He'd just shrugged it off and added it to the list of freaky people he was getting to know. In a way, he was glad that he hadn't known this from the start. He'd never have become acquainted with them if he had, and then might have missed out on knowing some really cool people. But he did resolve to ask if there was anything special about anyone else in that group. 

So the three of them planned to meet when it was convenient for all of them. Willow was free most of the time, aside from helping Wesley research things and occasionally tagging along with Kennedy when she was slaying. Connor was working full-time over the summer and Dawn had alternating days off. So they planned for the coming Friday after Connor and Dawn were done with work. 

Dawn ran the last block, hating to be late and miss anything important. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Spike's car before their house. With a little persuasion, she could hopefully get a ride from him instead of taking the bus. She hurried into the house, calling his name. He wasn't far, sitting in the living room, watching television.

"What happened to you, pet?" he asked with a laugh. Dawn knew she looked like a drowned rat. 

"Exploding pop bottle," she replied succinctly. "Is there any chance I could get a ride to the hotel after I shower? I'm supposed to be meeting Willow in like fifteen minutes."

"Sure, no problem," he shrugged. Buffy had called earlier to tell him that Daphne and the others wanted her to join them for their traditional Friday night dinner. It seemed to be more than just dinner, and was actually a night to let their hair down and party some of their work frustrations away. He was glad that she was invited and accepted by her co-workers so quickly. She and Daphne were already good friends. But he also felt a little left out and lonely. Luckily for him, the Nibblet appeared before he could get too maudlin, and dare he think it, broody?

"Thanks!" Dawn flew down the stairs to retrieve some clean clothes and in a flash was up to shower. Since he had nothing better to do, he called Willow to let her know that the teen would be a little late due to work. Willow was fine with that and when she heard he was driving her told him that it would be good to see him.

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way. Dawn told him all about the customers at work. And he told her he was glad he didn't work there. Serving impatient gits who thought nothing of wrecking merchandise just didn't seem to suit him. He laughingly told her that he would've probably made the idiot who dropped the pop clean it up himself. 

They arrived at the hotel and he followed her in. Connor was waiting in the lobby, perched nervously on one of the large chairs in a corner. Dawn greeted him and he looked nervously at Spike. "He was just giving me a ride," she whispered quickly. Connor nodded and settled back in the chair.

"Hey Dawn, Spike," Cordy greeted them from behind the counter where she was working. She glanced at the ceiling overhead as a particularly noisy crash was heard. "Uh, Willow will be down soon," she informed them, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the indistinct yelling. Spike approached the desk, leaning casually on it. Wes had a book out and was pretending to be absorbed in it. Spike took in the way they all seemed to be trying to ignore the fight that was obviously happening between Willow and Kennedy. 

"This a daily event mate?" he quietly asked Wes. The man's eyes jumped up to meet his and with the barest flicker of a nod, returned to his book. 

"Can I get anyone some coffee?" Cordy offered brightly. "Or tea? We have both." 

Before anyone could answer, a door slammed and heavy feet ran down the stairs. Kennedy flew past them, a muttered comment about going out thrown over her shoulder. Cordy muffled a giggle as Wes and Spike muttered together, "stupid bint." They glanced at each other then shared a grin. Obviously Kennedy was not well liked here. 

Connor rose to ascend the stairs, but Dawn wisely restrained him. "Give her a minute," she warned. He glanced once more at the door then nodded and resumed his seat. They waited for Willow to compose herself and come downstairs to greet her guests. It didn't take her long and soon Dawn and Connor had followed her back up to her room. Spike watched interestedly for a moment, since Connor was involved in what he'd thought was women only get together. He threw an inquiring glance at the other two, but they just shrugged. Spike put it out of his mind for just now. If Dawn wanted him to know, she'd tell him later. 

So how are things going?" Cordy asked as she carefully filed some papers away. 

"Not bad," he shrugged. "Still lookin' for work, but I'll find somethin'." He didn't miss the apprehensive glance between the Seer and Wes. 

"Well," Wes began, then cleared his throat. He almost looked pleadingly at Spike and the blonde understood immediately. He had sounded like he was hinting at something they weren't wanting. And he didn't want it either. 

"Oh, don't worry mate," he laughed. "I'm not askin' for a job. Peaches would kill ya."

"Yes," Wes grinned, "that he would."

"But if you hear anythin'?" Spike wasn't above that.

"Oh of course," Wes nodded happily. "We'd be sure to pass it along."

"Oh," Cordy broke in; "you know what we did when we were out of work?" Spike shook his head. He never knew that they had been jobless. Angel had a thing about helping others. Spike couldn't see where the great poof wouldn't help his friends. "We sang for Lorne. You know, to help us get started on our proper paths."

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "And he led you down the straight and narrow?"

"You could give it a try," she suggested simply. Spike shrugged, although the idea had merit. He certainly didn't mind performing a ditty if it could point him in the right direction. There was just something in him that chafed at the thought of flipping burgers the rest of his life. "I'll call Lorne for you. He's in the process of re-doing the club, but I'm sure he'll be available."

So Spike waited while she made the call. She told him that Lorne was waiting and gave him directions to the club. He told them to have Dawn call him if she needed a ride as he had his cell phone with him and headed off. The club was in a section of town that he'd driven by a few times. But he'd never have known the club was there. He walked into the outer shell of what seemed to be a warehouse and followed the steps down. He tried the door, which was locked, then rang the buzzer. After a few minutes, a little click sounded and he tried the now unlocked door. He slipped in, taking in the set-up as he went. It was a little flashy for his taste, but it seemed to suit Lorne perfectly. 

All was quiet and Spike figured that whomever had been working on the new stage, that was still in pieces, must have knocked off about five. He stopped at the bar, glancing around for the horned green demon. His Slayer sense tickled a bit and he swung his head around to catch Lorne emerging from one of the back rooms. 

"Ah, my little spice cake," Lorne grinned as he made his way to the bar. "Cordy tells me you're in need of my services."

"I suppose," Spike drawled. "The Seer told me you might be able to help."

"Apparently five years of letting them rip my ears to shred makes me one of the gang," Lorne joked. His fighting skills, much to his disappointment, had grown over the last few years. Hazards of association. He was still just as likely though to throw off an attacker with a well timed, perfectly pitched rendition of Mariah than to throw a punch. 

"Yeah," Spike grunted. "She told me she sang for you."

"Oh not just them sugar," Lorne winked. Spike's grin grew devilish.

"Christ! Don't tell me Peaches was singin'," he cackled as Lorne nodded. "I woulda staked myself if I had to hear that again."

"I nearly stabbed myself in the ears with the closest beer bottle every time he walked in the club," Lorne rolled his eyes. He was really beginning to like Spike. That was not to say that he hated him before. Just hadn't really known him. "Drink?" he asked, gesturing behind him. 

"Beer'd be good," Spike nodded. Lorne complied, removing one from the still functioning cooler and popping the top off the bottle. He slid it across the bar to Spike. 

"Have a seat," the demon invited as he moved about, apparently searching for his own drink. He muttered to himself as he dug through a few boxes. "Where's Julius when I need him. Oh, that's right, ungrateful little whelp runs home to mama 'cause he can't handle three weeks of renovations."

"Who's Julius?" Spike asked, amused. Lorne's head popped back up as he set a bottle on the counter. 

"Oh, just the latest in a string of bartenders," Lorne sighed. "Didn't want to wait out the renovations, so he took a job elsewhere. Pity too. The boy actually had some talent." He continued to pull bottles out, then a knife and some fruit from the mini-fridge. Spike took them in, then pulled the grapefruit to him.

"Seabreeze?" he asked. Lorne grinned.

"My favorite," he acknowledged. He watched as Spike absentmindedly mixed the drink.

"So, obviously, I'm lookin' for a job," he spoke as he worked. "I mean, I'm sure there's somethin' out there. It's just that I don't see meself flippin' burgers or deliverin' stuff, or any of the thousands of peon jobs there are. You know?" Lorne nodded. "And I'd really prefer to get somethin' with good hours. I mean, not only do we have bills to pay, but Buffy's gonna be wantin' more clothes for work. And then there's the weddin' and we're gettin' started on a family." He took the glass Lorne held out for him. "It's gonna take a lot of money. An' I mean, Buffy's got a job, a good one. An' I don't begrudge her that. I jus' don' wanna be the dead weight aroun' the house." He pushed the finished product across the bar. Lorne took a sip, but Spike didn't notice his face light up as he continued his rant. "I mean, I'm all for empowered women. Wouldn't be with her if I were. But I gotta do somethin' mate. I just, need a job."

"You're hired," Lorne grinned. Spike's head snapped up.

"What?"

Lorne held the glass up to the dim light. "Brother, this is excellent. You're a natural. You need a job. I need another bartender. What do you say?"

Spike grinned. He could like working for this dandified demon. "I say how much and when do I start?"


	14. An Empty Ache

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Fourteen

An Empty Ache

"Buffy, hurry up!" Spike called up the stairs. He yanked viciously at his tie, already tired of it and he'd only been wearing it for twenty minutes. Dawn sighed from her place on the couch. She glanced at her watch one more time. 

"Should I call the restaurant?" she asked timidly. 

"Ya might have to pet," Spike leaned against the archway into the living room. "Your sis doesn't seem inclined to grace us with her presence. Never mind Giles."

"Believe me, he'll understand," Dawn snickered. "He's been dealing with Buffy longer than either of us."

"True," Spike grinned. "I'm just afraid he'll start without us."

"Since we'll be his guests, that'd be completely rude," Buffy chimed in as she descended the stairs. "And Giles is not rude." She paused at the bottom landing, gauging the effect on her fiancé. She, Dawn, Willow and Cordy had gone shopping a few days before, when they were sure about where Giles was taking them for dinner. The thoughtful man had had Cordy make arrangements at an upscale restaurant for a few days after his return. He'd made the scheduled stop in Denver to talk to Faith and wanted to give himself a day to recuperate before taking his 'kids' out for a night on the town. 

Spike felt his mouth go dry as he took in her outfit. When he'd asked, she'd simply told him that she'd bought a little black dress to replace the one lost in Sunnydale. Apparently it was a must for every woman's wardrobe. But little hadn't entered his mind until he saw her in it. It wasn't little, it was miniscule. The bottom barely coming to the top of her thighs, the top was clinging to her womanly curves. Spike's face began to burn as he realized that she actually meant to go out in public like that. And his heart soared at her daring. She'd never allowed him to dictate what she wore, although sometimes he'd have liked to. He swallowed hard and reminded himself, that no matter how many men looked; she would only go home with him. 

Buffy glanced over at Dawn. Her sister also had a new dress, but from the teen's pout, she gathered that it hadn't garnered a good enough reaction. "So, do I pass inspection?"

"You look good Buff," her sister smiled. Buffy turned back to Spike. 

"Was I worth the wait?" She teased gently. It startled her for a moment when he charged forward, wondering if he was turning Neanderthal on her. But he simply grabbed her around the waist, spun her around and set her on her feet, before kissing her senseless. 

"Always luv, always," he whispered in her ear. Buffy inhaled deeply, her slightly reeling senses a-tilt once more from the scent of his after-shave. 

They met Giles, who knew Buffy well enough to have actually set the reservation for half an hour after he'd told her. So they ended up being five minutes early. The waiter led them to the table and Giles stood to receive hugs from the girls. Once the greetings were over, he started grilling them on how they were enjoying their current life. The house, their jobs, how slaying was going. Buffy saw it for the diversionary tactic that it was, but every time she tried to get a word in edgewise, one of the other three would be off on a new tangent. They seemed to be unconsciously conspiring together to keep her on tenterhooks regarding their surprise. And when they ran out of things to say, the waiter returned to take their order. 

Buffy hurriedly glanced through the menu, her mouth watering at the delectable dishes written out in beautiful calligraphy. She listened absently as Dawn ordered the Caesar and chicken salad. The teen was actually taking more of an interest in Buffy's healthy eating tack. But she'd had enough of that lately the Slayer decided. Spike of course, ordered his preferred rare steak. Giles, something similar. But tonight Buffy felt like splurging.

"I'll have the Fettuccine Alfredo with side salad," she informed the waiter. He nodded once and wrote it down dutifully. As soon as he'd collected the menus and departed, Buffy held her hand up. "Okay Giles, what's up? You've held out on me long enough. I want to know what my surprise is and I want to know now!" She ducked her head abruptly, as there was a lull in the conversation around them. She realized that she'd been getting louder. "Sorry," she whispered with an embarrassed glance about her. 

"It's okay luv," Spike chuckled. "I'm kinda wonderin' what the hell is up with Watcher man myself."

"Me too," Dawn chimed in. Three sets of eyes turned his way and Giles deliberately and calmly took a long drink from his water glass. When he set that down, he fiddled with his utensils. He was enjoying seeing the blonde woman squirming in her seat. He was getting much better about not caving in to her and was enjoying the reaction he was getting. 

"Well," he finally drawled, completely in command of the conversation now, "I was hoping that it would be a good surprise."

"Uh oh," Dawn sucked in her breath. "This is not good." Buffy patted her sister's arm comfortingly, even as she stared at the older man. 

"It's okay Dawnie," she soothed. "If it were bad, it'd be a call in the middle of the night, with panicky, stammery Giles. Not calm, cool, sauvey British man here."

Giles turned to Spike and in a voice like a child's whispered," She thinks I'm suave." Then frowned at her appalling grammar, "or so I believe." Spike began to laugh hard enough to almost snort his water through his nose.

"You'd better just tell us," he gasped, trying to recover, "before we attract any more attention." 

"All right," Giles acquiesced. "Just to preserve what's left of my dignity. As I told you, the house came from property that was turned over to the Council. One of the reasons I returned to England was to make a case for paying the Slayers."

"Oh!" Buffy's eyes grew wide. "We're finally going to get paid?"

"Er, not quite," Giles hedged. 

"But still something, right?" Dawn chirped. "You said it was still good news?"

"Well," Giles leaned back in his chair. "The Council feels, and I must agree, that Slaying really isn't a job. It is more in the nature of a calling. They feel that by paying a Slayer wages, they demean the title."

"Wankers," Spike growled under his breath.

"What's so good about that?" Buffy grimaced.

"Well," Giles grinned, "even though they are not willing to pay wages, they do feel compelled to set up a sort of stipend for the Slayers."

"A who-pend?" Buffy's brow furrowed.

"Reimbursement pet," Spike interjected. "It's sort of money to cover wear and tear."

"Exactly," Giles nodded. "Each month, you tally up what property of yours was damaged, and it must be legitimate, and the council will reimburse you for it." Buffy sat for a moment, taking it in, then turned to Dawn. The teen knew exactly what was on her sister's mind. 

"New clothes!" they laughed together. 

Giles explained exactly how the reimbursement would work. Each month, they'd tally up the cost of what had been damaged and submit the report to him. He'd in turn bring it to the council. Luckily, it was Giles' job to verify the losses, not the Council's Things would be a lot harder to deal if they had to wait each month for someone to check and make sure that Buffy did indeed get into some demon goo that wouldn't come out of her sneakers. At the end of each month, the Council would cut a check for them. Buffy grinned more over the idea of being guaranteed seeing her Watcher at least once a month than she was at getting money. 

Spike on the other hand was busily calculating in his head how much this might save them from dipping into their savings. Well, more his savings. They'd still need to buy Buffy more work clothes. He was lucky enough to be required to wear the club uniform while bartending. He'd already picked up the pants, two shirts and the tie from Lorne. He'd modeled it for the girls and Dawn made oblique references to some movie he'd never seen. As soon as he'd heard the words "Tom Cruise" he'd dashed from the room, pretending to retch. 

Just to get him back, Dawn had rented three of the blighter's movies on their last movie night. Even though he'd complained the whole time, he secretly was amused by the one Dawn had been referring too. Slayer agility could certainly put on a better show than a two-bit actor with a stunt double. He came out of his musings to hear Giles repeat his question.

"So are you liking work then?" he inquired again.

"Oh, haven't actually started yet," he shrugged. "Lorne and I just signed my contract a few days ago."

"A contract?" Giles frowned. "For bartending?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "Peaches boys handled the whole thing." Referring of course to the law firm. 

"Why did Lorne feel the need for a contract?" Giles demanded. Spike shrugged. 

"He's been losing a lot of bartenders," Buffy piped up. "He told Spike that he'd be willing to pay ten dollars an hour, plus tips if Spike would commit to a year's work."

"Oh dear," the elder Brit sighed. "What happens if you need time off for an apocalypse?" This time it was Dawn's turn to snort at the casualness Giles exhibited. She covered her mouth hastily as the waiter brought out some appetizers.

Spike watched with a hardened eye as the man surreptitiously dared a glance down his fiancée's cleavage. But she arched a look at him that held him back. He knew he'd be in for punishment of the no-sex variety if he pummeled the waiter to within an inch of his life. Instead, he turned back to Giles. "We already worked that out. I'll be workin' thirty hours a week at that wage. But instead of owing him a year, I owe him fifteen hundred odd hours. If there's trouble, I get time off to deal with it. My job'll be there when I get back."

"Ooh," Dawn giggled. "Tell him about the immunity clause." Spike grinned back. 

"An' there's a special two block radius of immunity for the demons that are leaving when I get off work. I catch 'em one foot out o' line and I go Slayer on their asses." Giles couldn't contain his mirth. They continued to chat through their meal, once it arrived. Giles very sweetly asked after their wedding plans. Buffy was chagrined to admit that she'd made no definite plans yet. But she was eager, now that they were working, to get started on it. The men commiserated over the event as males tend to do, while Dawn and Buffy defended the ideas they came up with. Talk moved on to the interesting finds Giles and the Council team had found during their spell casting. And then the subject of Max and Angel came round. Giles pulled out the postcard he'd recently received and passed it around the table. 

It was a good evening. As they prepared to take their leave, Buffy invited Giles to come over to their new place when he had the chance. Aside from helping out Wesley, he had plenty of time on his hands. Giles agreed to call her and arrange something, even though he had an open invitation, just like the rest of their friends. Once the Summers-Worthington group reached home, they moved into their pre-bedtime ritual. In other words, Dawn disappeared downstairs while Buffy and Spike locked up. 

The days and weeks continued much in the same order. Spike got used to working at Caritas. It was an easy slide for him to make. The past few years of being Dawn and Buffy's sounding board and gossip buddy had prepared him to listen to those customers inclined to talk. And recalling Angelus' rare singing performances about their hideouts kept him in the frame of mind that the current crop of karaoke-ers were truly gifted. He, due to his long enough Vampiric lifestyle, was able to mix and present a wide range of drinks when needed to. And his devastating cheekbones and luminous blue eyes kept the tips rolling in. Unfortunately, it wasn't just tips that he was receiving.

It had been a fairly slow Monday night. Which according to Lorne was something of an oddity. Caritas was popular no matter which day of the week it was being it was a haven to many. After the initial wariness of having a Slayer tending bar, business had boomed as usual. Especially when the patrons saw that Spike enforced the no violence rule of the club, even on himself. 

Tired, wanting to get home and snuggle with Buffy, Spike had simply dumped his tips into his coat pocket and headed out, not even bothering to change into his street clothes. Of course, hyper efficient Slayer gal had insisted on cleaning the pockets out before hanging it up for him. And what she saw made her explode. She stormed into the bathroom after him, yelling through the shower curtain. 

"What the hell are these?" 

Spike stuck his head out from the stream of water and glanced at her hand. "'S paper luv, thought you'd recognize it."

"I recognize the paper dumbass," she seethed, one hand settling on her hip. "What I'm wondering about are the sequence of digits written on them that look suspiciously to me like women's phone numbers!" She yelled the last part. Spike hid a grin. Lorne had warned him, he truly had. But Spike had been so tired that this evening he hadn't bothered disposing of the numbers as he usually did before getting home. 

"Not just women," he grunted, returning his head to the relaxing flow of liquid. 

"Huh?" came her stupefied answer. She glanced suspiciously at the four slips she'd found. "What does that mean? Are they special women in some way? Insane like Dru perhaps? Ditzy like Harmony? Maybe they dress like that chick from Xander and Anya's not a wedding?"

"Dunno," he called out. "Maybe. I think though that some are from guys."

He said it so casually that Buffy was stunned enough to shut up. Her eyes widened as she glanced anew at the papers. She'd gone ballistic when she'd seen the numbers. She hadn't even taken in the messages written above or below said numbers. She took a moment now and sniggered as she realized what he'd said was true. "Oh my God," she giggled. Pulling the curtain back, she recited one for him, "_hey man, if you want to see how good I can shake things up, give me a call, Tony._" She collapsed against the wall, laughing so hard she snorted. 

"Ha ha," Spike growled. He quickly rinsed off and shut the shower off. Buffy handed him a towel, which he quickly wrapped and secured around his waist. "Not my fault everyone finds me sexy."

"Especially Tony," she grinned. He stepped out into her embrace. He held her for a moment then plucked the papers from her hand and threw them in the small trashcan nearby. He straightened up to see the contemplative look on her face. 

"What is it sweetheart?" he asked gently. 

"Do you ever think about… you know?" she shrugged helplessly. He understood.

"I do," he admitted candidly. But continued quickly at the hurt look on her face. "I think about how much it would hurt you if I were to fool around. I remember that night with Demon-girl, and even if you hadn't wanted anything between us and wouldn't admit that there was, I still remember the look on your face. And I don't ever wanna see that look again. So when these women slip their numbers in my tip jar," he refrained from mentioning the hand in his pocket incident, "I just think o' that night and I know they'd never be worth it."

"That's so sweet," she smiled. "Cliched, but sweet."

"What about you luv?" he asked softly, not sure he wanted an answer. "Do you ever wish…."

"Not anymore," Buffy pouted. "Tony there broke my heart. I was hoping he'd shake his thang for me." She giggled as he rolled his eyes. 

"It's not my fault he's got superior taste," he teased; glad the storm had passed so quickly. "But honestly?"

"Sometimes," she shrugged. "I think about what could have been in the past. But it always seems like all that was a fantasy, a dream. It's like you said, I want the life we have. With everything that gets messed up and the stuff that seems perfect, only to get better the next day. I want to see how this turns out, so I'm not going to risk it for something fleeting. If I want some thrills, I'll just go kill something."

"As long as it's not me or the Nibblet, that's fine then," Spike smiled.

"So by that account, Dru, Harmony and that ditz from the wedding are fair game for Buffy-rage?"

"Perfectly," Spike laughed, although he felt an odd tinge at the thought of Dru's passing. If it ever came down to it, he'd destroy his Sire to protect Buffy or any one of their friends. But it would be one of the hardest things he'd ever have to do. He shook his head, focusing himself back in the present. Buffy was trailing her hands along his chest in an enticing manner. He followed behind as she led him to their inner sanctum, muttering about getting him a ring to warn off others. He didn't have the heart to tell her that Lorne had warned against that as well. It was just a bigger challenge. One he didn't feel he needed to deal with. Not when he had something so delightful to occupy his time away from the bar. 

***** 

"I hope you realize you're pissin' me off," Spike growled as he crept along the dune filled stretch of beach. "Stupid wanker. Can't even come out and face a Slayer properly." He'd just gotten off work and had been heading home. Surprisingly, Wes had stopped by Caritas that night, ostensibly to talk with Lorne. While waiting for Spike to pour him his drink, he'd filled him in on the latest of Cordy's visions. And had mentioned that Max and Angel's imminent flight was delayed because of bad weather on their end. The family was taking a later flight, but would still be home this evening, just at four in the morning. So he wondered if Spike could take care of the roving demon that was hanging out at the beach. If Spike didn't catch it tonight, Wes figured the AI team could handle it when Angel was rested up the next evening. Spike hadn't minded. It was his other job after all. He just didn't like the inference that this thing would slip by him and mighty Angel would clean up the mess. So he was determined to catch this thing and effectively dispose of it. 

But like the sissy it was, instead of facing the male Slayer like a real demon, it had run from the teenage couple it had been stalking. So Spike had to give chase. And all that was doing was keeping Spike from getting home to Buffy. Warm, snuggly, extremely horny Buffy. Finally spotting the few shallow caves under a pier structure, Spike decided to check them out and if he found nothing, give up. He could return to the house, make love to his fiancée and return in the morning, and hopefully get the drop on the thing while it slept. He'd have to call Wes though and make sure that the thing did sleep though.

As he reached the second last cave, he felt the telltale tickle at the back of his neck. He tensed his hand around the stake he held and slowly eased the short sword from his weapon bag. He wanted to be ready for anything. And just as he imagined it would, the demon burst forth from it's hiding space. It had had to crouch to fit in, so it's attack was low. Spike jumped into the air, allowing the beast to dive cleanly under him. He spun around once he'd landed, dropping the stake. It would be no use to him. He brought the sword up before him, kicking the thing in the lower back to try and keep it down. Didn't quite work as he planned as the beast already had its momentum going, causing Spike to falter backwards. But he was quicker and lighter on his feet and was able to get in a good shot to what would be it's kidneys, assuming it had any. The beast howled as it spun around, yanking the sword from Spike's grasp. 

But Spike was nothing if not resourceful. He'd learned that much in his years of fighting. He twisted around, letting his bag slip loose and caught the strap before it could fly free. He kept it moving, knocking the beast upside the head. It was stunned enough that Spike could continue his frontal assault. The thing, obvious to Spike now, a natural coward tried to turn and run. But that just presented the Slayer's sword to its owner. Spike pulled it free and tackled the running form, ramming the sword with sickening finality through the back of its neck.

With a satisfied grunt, Spike pulled the sword out, cleaning it with a handful of sand. His mind absently noted that he'd need to sharpen it soon. Picking up the few weapons that had fallen from his bag, he replaced them, donned the bag and cheerfully dragged the demon back to the cave it had recently departed from. Now he could call Wes and brag a little. Leave a mess for Angel to clean up in the good sense for once. 

Since he was on the beach, Spike decided to take the shortcut and come up through the backyard. He could see a light on in their home and figured Buffy was waiting up for him, even though he was later than usual. He smiled as his feet picked up the pace a little. He swung open the back gate, noting that someone; probably Buffy had oiled the hinges. He'd protested of course. In his opinion, the squeak was a good warning against intruders. But Buffy, in her homemaking mode had rolled her eyes and insisted that the neighbors wouldn't like it. 

Just as he moved up the steps to the deck, he caught sight of a familiar flash of red hair. Willow was over. He grinned, glad that the Wiccan was keeping her friend company. He just hoped she'd get the hint and leave quickly. But some sense, some intuition caused him to stop short of opening the French doors to the living room. 

Buffy was seated on the couch, Willow beside her. But that wasn't the right term. Crouched was more appropriate. She was huddled in her spot, Willow's arms around her, comforting her. Even from across the room, Spike could see the track of tears down his lover's face. He watched he didn't know for how long until finally Buffy lifted her head and wiped her eyes. He stayed silent and unmoving as the two women rose from the couch. Buffy followed Willow to the door. The redhead said something and Buffy turned back to look in the living room. But it wasn't to the doors that she looked. Spike followed her line of vision, seeing a plain white paper bag. He glanced back up as Buffy shook her head and continued to the door. 

When she returned, after hearing the roar of Willow's car departing, Spike continued to watch. Something warned him to stay as he was. He'd seen Buffy in all her moods. And right now, everything about her body language was screaming that she was at a breaking point. She returned to the living room and stood before the coffee table. Whatever had pushed her too far was centered in that bag. She stood still for a moment before forcing herself to snatch up the bag. She strode over to the computer desk and knelt before it. She yanked open the door to the little cubby cupboard that they had no use for yet and shoved the bag inside. 

Spike expected the tension in her shoulders to ease some after slamming the door shut. But if anything, it was worse. She stood again, wiping away more tears that seemed determined to fall. But her nimble fingers couldn't keep up with the seeping liquid and Spike watched, his heart thudding in his ears as she leaned against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. 

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that she was able to collect herself. With a fearful glance at the basement door, Buffy moved around the living room, turning off lights. She still hadn't noticed Spike. And he still hadn't moved. He couldn't help her, he knew, until he knew what was wrong. And thinking on that little bag, he had a dreadful suspicion of what it might be. Finally, she'd turned off all the lights, but for the hallway and porch lights. But with the moonlight aiding him, he caught her stealing up the stairs, most likely to cry herself to sleep. 

Once he was sure that she'd made it up, he quietly let himself into the house. On silent feet, he crept towards the desk. He slid to his knees and carefully removed his weapons bag. He settled it under the desk, out of the way. He pulled open the cubby door, wincing at the little popping noise it gave as the magnet holding it shut released. His hand reached in for the solitary occupant of the nook. The papers crinkled some as his fingers closed around it and he withdrew slowly, bag in hand. Rocking back, he stood and moved to the light the hallway offered. With a sharp breath of apprehension, he pulled open the top and glanced in.

His eyelids fluttered down, feeling the sharp tang of bitterness in his throat. He clenched his jaw, willing his own tears to stay back. It was as he'd suspected. Willow had come, like a good friend at Buffy's bidding. But what she'd brought was not needed. Tonight it was a slap in his fiancé's face. A spear through their hearts. A simple box. It's content's so much more. With an aggrieved sigh, Spike returned the bag to the hiding spot Buffy had chosen. It wouldn't do for Dawn to accidentally find it and inadvertently make her sister feel worse by asking about it. So in the desk's cubbyhole, the pregnancy test would wait for another day.


	15. Broken

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Fifteen

Broken

"Tired baby?" Angel asked solicitously as he pulled the car out of the parking lot. He watched his wife twist around in her seat to check on their daughter. He knew she was safely ensconced in her car seat, but it was a habit Max had. After making sure that Eva was still asleep, she turned a grinning face back to him. 

"Not at all," she shrugged. "If we'd have had to wait for that later flight, I might have been."

"That is just so strange," he mused.

"What?" she asked softly, not wanting to wake the child. Eva had been fussy the entire trip back and no amount of cuddling from either parent would settle her down. Luckily, it hadn't been a particularly full flight out of Heathrow at that time. So they just tried to keep her occupied and apologized to the people nearest them for the noise. 

"No matter where we went, the time change didn't bother you," he answered, just as softly. He kept his eyes on the road. He'd been driving a lot of years, but even he had to become acclimated to the correct side of the road again. Which was funny to him. He was Irish. When had he come around to the Americanized manner of thinking that American ways were correct ways? He mentally shrugged that off. The only important thing was getting his family home. To sleep. Because even if Max wasn't affected by time change and jet lag, he and Eva were. 

"It was thoughtful of Wes to bring the car," Max sighed. There's been such a mix up about their flight time that they felt bad asking to have someone meet them. Wes had taken care of this instead, so they wouldn't have to worry about a cab, unless they were both too tired to drive. 

"Yeah," Angel nodded, then glanced again at the dashboard. "Although I'm going to have to ask him why the mileage is different than when we left."

"Angel," she mock whined, "you jerk. You told Wes he could use the car if they needed to."

"I did?"

"You did."

"When was that?"

"Right before we left," she reminded him gently. "You know, when Eva kept trying to eat my shirt." Angel thought back and remembered watching his daughter pulling on her mother's shirt, reaching to stuff the soft fabric into her mouth to soothe her aching gums. And the resultant view from his daughter's antics. He'd mentioned the car? It seemed to him that he'd been a little distracted.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled. But the look she shot him told him that she didn't buy his false acceptance for a second. With another glance back at the slumbering child, she unclicked her seat belt and scooted across the seat to lean against her husband. Angel wrapped his free arm around her and they continued home. There was surprisingly little traffic on the road, even at nearly three in the morning. 

Neither one questioned the gates that were slightly ajar, just taking it as another sign that Wes had thoughtfully prepared to make things easier for them. It was only when Max was lifting the car seat from its vehicle mooring that a whisper of sound caught her attention. She set Eva back in with a little click and pushed the door shut.

"Max, what?" Angel hadn't heard anything aside from the usual late evening sounds in the distance.

"Someone's here," she whispered harshly, then slashed the air with her hand, indicating for him to be quiet. They waited and the noise came a little more loudly this time. A moan. Exchanging glances, Angel jerked his chin towards the direction it came from, the main doors. With ease, Max moved forward. They'd developed an easy rhythm of silently communicating with each other. He was telling her to go and check it out while he protected Eva. 

After he'd become human again, they'd had friendly competitions with each other. And while they were closely matched for strength, he had lost the majority of his sight advantage. She could see better in the dark than he could. Which made her more suited for this type of reconnaissance. Plus the fact that she was quicker than most everything they dealt with, he had no large worries that she was in that much danger. Just the unknown element of what they were dealing with. He watched her disappear into the shadows, tracking her movements only by the glimpses of her white shirt that showed briefly under her jacket as she moved. 

There was a thump, another moan, then a surprised, "Spike! What the hell are you doing here?"

With a relieved grin, Angel reached into the car to get Eva. She really needed to be in out of the night air, warm though it was. The baby had slept through the entire mini adventure. Angel glanced at the trunk of the car, figuring they'd just need the diaper bag for tonight. He could get everything after he'd had some rest. He moved towards where the noise was coming from, the thought in the back of his mind that it had to be important if Spike willingly came over to the hotel, without Buffy.

And by the looks of things, it was dreadfully important. Enough so that Spike seemed to have tied one on. He was slumped on the ground, by the door. A beer bottle was dangling from his fingers and he had his other hand pressed against his temple. He was staring up at Max, stupefied. 

"Why in the bleedin' hell did ya 'ave to 'it me?" he demanded in a slurring, petulant tone.

"'Cause there's a serious lack of demons in Ireland and I was homesick," she quipped. 

"Thought you were in England," he groused.

"There too," she shrugged. "The question though, is why are you here?"

"'Cause there's nowhere else fer me to go," he mumbled. He pulled his hand away from where she'd struck him. There was no blood, but he could feel the knot forming. "Damn woman! Ought to learn to pull yer punch a little."

"At least it wasn't your nose," Angel reminded him none too gently of others propensity for attacking there. 

"She'd 'ave bloody broken it," he groaned. Max and Angel exchanged weary glances. They'd been very much looking forward to cuddling together, getting a little rest and having some time to themselves before their friends descended on them. 

"I guess we better get him inside," Angel finally decided. Max nodded once and grabbed the hand with the bottle in it. It was empty, so she took it from him and tossed it to her husband. He caught it with his free hand and shook his head. "How many of these did you have?" he asked the other man as his wife hauled him to his feet and braced him up. 

"He's bleeding," she informed Angel quietly, having caught the scent and sight of it on his hand. 

"'S not bad," Spike shook his head, whether to negate their concern or to clear his head, they weren't sure. "Not like inside."

"You're bleeding internally?" Angel asked with a modicum of concern. But Spike didn't answer. With a sigh, he opened the main doors and Max forcibly dragged him inside, stumbling and moaning the whole way. "Should we call an ambulance?"

Max managed to get him to the nearest chair and settled him into it. She knelt before him and impersonally ran her hands over his torso, searching for other injuries. "I don't think so," she shook her head. "Spike? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Jus' my 'eart," he admitted softly. 

"You hurt your heart?" she asked, puzzled. 

"I didn't, but it is," he mumbled. Max rolled her eyes and looked up at her husband. The look she gave him told him firmly that it was up to him now. She stood and moved to him, taking the car seat and bag from him. 

"It looks like he scraped his knuckles up," she informed him softly. "And the bump I gave him. But something's not right." She glanced back at the blonde, huddling over, his arms cradling his waist. "I'll put Eva down. See what you can find out." Without waiting for him to agree, she headed for their suite, moving quickly but silently. 

Angel waited until she was gone before running a distracted hand over his face. He really didn't want to deal with a drunken Spike, just after he'd gotten home. He figured he had a fairly good idea what had happened, having seen him in this condition before. Spike drank. But he drank to be drunk for only one reason. Woman trouble. With a sigh, he figured he'd get Spike to admit that he'd screwed up as usual, commiserate that Spike along with the rest of mankind didn't understand women and then send him home. His mumbled ranting had begun again and Angel barely managed to repress the frustrated growl that rose in his throat. 

"Again I ask," he tried to get the other man's attention, "how much did you drink tonight?" It wouldn't really be an indicator of anything, but he had to start somewhere.

"Don't know," Spike shrugged heavily. "'Ave to ask Lorne."

"Lorne?" Angel's brow furrowed. He hadn't realized that they were on drinking terms. Or that Spike would go to a karaoke bar. 

"Well, 'e'd know," Spike answered angrily, defensively. "E was the one shovin' 'em under ma nose."

"Lorne was making you drink?" Angel asked suspiciously. "Why would he do that?"

"'Cause I tol' 'im to," Spike rolled his eyes up at the taller man. He shook his head. Really, Angel could be so incredibly dense at times. 

"Spike, what's wrong?" he discarded small talk and went straight to the problem. "What did you do?"

"Cleaned up yer mess," Spike grinned. He clearly remembered that. Killing the demon that Wes was counting on Angel to take care of. 

"Mess? What mess?" It seemed utter confusion was on the menu tonight. 

"Did my job," Spike continued. "Did it even though I wanted to go 'ome and go ta sleep. Not like the great poofter runnin' away."

"I didn't run-!" Angel growled angrily before stopping himself. Why was he defending himself when he didn't even know what it was he was supposed to have run away from? 

"Buffy's right," Spike continued to mumble. "You always leave. Leave when she needed ya, when Dru needed ya. Hell! Even when I needed ya."

"You needed me?" he asked dubiously. Of course, with the mention of Dru, he could see that Spike was referring to past times. 

"'F course not!" Spike sputtered. "Ya got yer screws loose if ya think that."

"Yeah," Angel grunted. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The blonde was starting to wear on his nerves. He tried to focus on the events of the night that led Spike here.

"I mean, 's not like I have many friends," Spike defended. "Not that we're friends. But I had to go somewhere. Couldn't stay home."

Aha! They were getting closer to the problem now. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you went to Lorne first." The other man brightened visibly for a moment, the deflated again.

"'S not my friend," he muttered. "E's my boss. There's a difference."

"Your boss?" Angel grimaced. "What does that mean."

"It means I work for him, pillock," Spike growled. Honestly, there was that dense thing again.

"You work for Lorne?" Angel inquired skeptically. He shook his head again. "Never mind. Obviously I haven't heard all the news yet." Which wasn't a surprise. There'd been other things to talk about on the few occasions that he'd called home. "But I know from experience that bosses and employees can be friends."

"Oh yeah," Spike grinned. "Doesn't matter though. You weren't here."

"Spike, focus!" Angel snapped. "Why are you here?" he demanded, with emphasis on the 'you'.

"I told you! I couldn't stay home!" Spike yelled back. There was something about home that was disquieting in his mind at that moment. He couldn't quite remember, having drunk enough to dull the memory, if not the pain. 

"Spike, whatever happened, you're just going to have to deal with it," Angel directed. "Go home, apologize to Buffy, tell her you're an idiot, whatever, just deal with it. She can't stay mad at you forever."

"Oh that's right!" Spike exploded back. "Jus' assume that it's my fault! Bloody 'ell! No matter what, it's always Spike's fault!" He stopped suddenly, caving in on himself again. Angel watched in disbelief as the man began to sob. "It's my fault. 'As to be. Not 'er. It'd kill 'er." This was too much.

"I'm calling Buffy," he sighed, moving to his office, and the phone.

"Don't you dare!" Spike screamed after him, coming out of his stupor enough to race after him. "Ya leave 'er alone. She doesn't need this!" Angel watched, fascinated as Spike slammed his hands over the receiver and held it down. Angel hadn't even touched it yet. He approached cautiously. This behavior was starting to worry him. Maybe something larger was at play here than just a simple fight. He settled one hand on the other man's shoulder. 

"Spike, what happened tonight?"

"Nothin'," he replied brokenly. "Nothin' at all. Jus' like always."

"Spike, either you tell me, or I'm calling Buffy," he threatened gently. The blonde stared at him for a moment before pulling his hands back to himself and slumping into the nearest chair. Angel bit his lip and perched on the edge of the desk. But Spike's attention was caught by something else. The blonde reached over the seat to pull something closer. All Angel could tell was that it seemed to be a large frame, with a bow wrapped around it. He recalled quickly that the last time he'd talked to her, Cordelia had said something about having a surprise waiting for them. 

Spike's hand softly caressed whatever the picture was of. Angel moved from the desk to come around and see what it was. He crouched down and was stunned to see that it was an enlarged photograph from the wedding. But it wasn't any of the ones that they'd posed for. It must have been one of the candids that the photographer had been trying to get. The artist in Angel appreciated the simple beauty of the scene before him. And he could remember with crystal clarity, that moment. Eva had been fussy, since everyone had been busy posing for the pictures. That meant she had been set on the floor to play. 

The little girl had kept crawling to her parents, away from Karen, who'd been keeping an eye on her. After some laughing and joking, the photographer had called a five-minute break so that the couple could give their daughter the attention she so desperately wanted. He must have snapped this shot while they'd been playing. Angel had offered her his hands and pulled the little girl up to stand. She'd wanted to walk, as she'd been trying to do for a few weeks. So he got behind her and they'd walked around the room. After a few minutes of that, Max had come over for her turn. Angel had crouched behind the little girl, still holding her up with two strong fingers grasped in still pudgy baby hands. Max had bent over them and Angel had lifted his face for a kiss. The picture had captured them in that moment, when wedding parties, pictures, guests, gifts and plans had faded from them and they were a family at play together. 

Angel glanced from the picture to Spike. The blonde had a desperate longing on his face. Something clicked in his mind and he knew that maybe he'd found the answer. He carefully took the picture from his friend and set it back on the floor where Cordy must have leaned it up against the wall. "Spike?" he asked gently.

"We've been tryin'," the other man whispered. 

"To have a baby?" Angel clarified. That was where Spike's fingers had lain, over Eva's little face. The Slayer nodded. "And it hasn't happened yet?" Another nod. "Have you been trying long?"

"Since the weddin'," he shrugged. Angel nodded, really not wanting the details. 

"Well, that's not so long Spike," he sighed. 

"It's not," the Slayer agreed with a slow nod, then glanced up at Angel. "But it's forever too."

"Yeah, I guess," he could sympathize. In his life, he'd known the ache of wanting something with all his heart, only to be continually denied.

"The first time," Spike continued, "we were excited. And then there was a demon. Hit her, hard. Scared the piss outta me."

"Buffy went out patrolling when she knew she was pregnant?" Angel was aghast, but Spike was shaking his head. 

"She was jus' late," he shrugged. "She jus' didn't get a chance to tell me."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"We jus' shrugged it off, that first time," he continued. "There was so much goin' on. Movin', party, lookin' fer work. The next time was normal. But this last time…"

"What about it?"

"We kept quiet," Spike turned his head away, his words quieter than before. "Didn't want to jinx ourselves. And every day that passed, we'd get a little more excited." He turned to stare fully at the man he was confiding in. "Ya should 'ave seen the light in 'er eyes. So beautiful. She was so excited."

"And tonight?"

"'T wasn't there anymore," he whispered brokenly. Angel closed his eyes. Just the thought of Eva having never been twisted his heart painfully. He couldn't imagine how much worse this was for Buffy and Spike. 

"Well Spike," he spoke slowly, not wanting to agitate him further. "Three months is not all that long to be trying. I know some couples try for a lot longer before it happens. I mean, not to be crude, but Buffy was late before. She was late again. You just keep trying and I'm sure it'll happen eventually."

"Two an' a half weeks," Spike mumbled. 

"What?"

"This last time," he clarified. "She was two an' a half weeks late."

"Oh."

"There's gotta be somethin' wrong!" Spike growled. "Somethin' wrong with me."

"Or maybe Buffy," he suggested softly and instantly regretted it. Spike shot out of his chair, his hands slamming the larger man backwards onto his desk. He leaned above Angel, fury sparking in his eyes. 

"Don't say that!" he shouted. "It's not her!" Angel grabbed Spike's hands, clutching at his jacket. He exerted no small amount of force to push the Slayer back. He understood what Spike had been mumbling about earlier, how 'it would kill her'.

"Why wouldn't it be her?" he asked in low tones. Spike stared at him, uncomprehendingly for a moment, then deflated again.

"She came back wrong," he told the floor. 

"From Heaven?" he asked cautiously. It would forever be a touchy subject in most ways. Spike nodded. "How do you mean, wrong?"

"We didn't know then," he shrugged. "Jus' knew that somethin' was wrong. I could… hurt her, even with the chip. And she felt wrong."

"Did she get checked out?" Angel asked, concerned. He'd never known about this. The feelings and fears, yes, but he'd never given her physicality another thought aside from the most obvious ability to draw breath, to her once again beating heart. 

"She had Glinda do some tests," Spike shrugged. "But witchy stuff. We never thought about this."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"But it's not her," Spike argued. "It has to be me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I was a Vampire you idiot!" he exploded. "An' even before that. How the hell would I know if I could 'ave fathered children?"

"Being a former Vampire has nothing to do with it," Angel snorted. "Look at me." Then he realized his mistake. He couldn't use Connor or Eva as examples. He'd been a Vampire still.

"Oh yeah!" Spike snorted. "Golden boy here knocks a girl up and he's the bloody perfect example for spontaneous fatherhood."

"Spike!" he warned, but it had little effect. "That aside, it could be you, it could be Buffy. If you're really concerned, then you should be tested."

"Right! I'm not gonna wank off so some nosy little pervert can get his jollies!" 

Angel held back a choke of laughter and turned his face away. "I ah, believe they give you a private room."

"Oh, yeah."

"Still, I'm saying, you should figure out for sure that there really is a problem before you give up," Angel counseled. Spike nodded resignedly. 

"I'll think about it," he sighed. Angel said nothing more. It was up to Spike to deal with this. And then there was his wife coming into the office. She glared down at the Slayer. 

"Hey, thanks so much for being quiet and not waking my exhausted daughter up," she chirped mockingly. 

"Sorry baby," Angel apologized immediately, knowing that he'd been louder than he should have at times. "Did she get back to sleep?"

It's okay," she grinned suddenly. "She just fussed a little but went right down. I think she missed her crib." She turned to Spike. "I called Buffy." His head snapped up. 

"'S she okay?"

"She's not happy," Max grimaced. "She said that you didn't come home from work. So she called and Lorne had said that you left. She found your car and a dead demon at the beach. Then she heard a noise and gave the phone to Dawn."

"Dawn's up?" 

Max nodded. "Told me that Buffy was about ready to fly off the handle. Said that she tried to go out searching for you a couple times, but Dawn kept hiding her cell phone to distract her."

"What'd you tell her?"

"Well, the noise was nothing, so Buffy got back on the phone, demanding to know why I was calling?" She shook her head. "I told her that you were here."

"What'd she say?"

"Wanted to know why. I told her that you'd found a second demon and tracked it back this way. You got scraped up some and knocked in the head. We saw you on our way home and stopped to help. Angel was patching you up while I called."

"She believe it?" he asked guardedly. 

"Seemed to," Max nodded. "She wanted to drive over but Dawn apparently grabbed the car keys and told her she was too hysterical. So, if you're done here, I'll drive you home."

"You don't 'ave to-!" he began to protest. But Max cut him off.

"It's okay," she told him firmly. "I think the best thing would be for you to get home." She paused and looked carefully at him. "She's really upset and she needs you. And I think you need her too." Spike nodded slowly and stood up. He turned to face Angel and carefully offered his hand. Angel looked at him for a moment, before extending his own. 

"Thanks mate."

"Any time."


	16. Promises In The Dark

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Sixteen

Promises In The Dark

"Dawnie, get your rump in gear!" Buffy yelled down the basement steps to her sister. She knew she shouldn't be yelling. The teen had gotten practically no sleep the evening before, having to deal with her hysterical, crampy, depressed sister during Spike's impromptu disappearance. But even in light of that, she'd tried never to let her sister miss school unless it was for a really good reason. So today was no exception. Hopefully, the college student would remember back to the days of all night research and her body would respond accordingly, shifting to autopilot. Just as long as she was present for her classes. That was all Buffy was asking for.

The sound of tired feet clomping up the stairs reached her, so she stepped back to wait for her sister. She crossed her arms, a grim frown on her face. She sighed in exasperation as she took in the rumpled pajamas. "Buffy!" the girl protested through a yawn. "What the hell are you yelling at me for?"

"School Dawn!" she rolled her eyes. "You, late, go, now!"

Dawn grimaced and stretched, her back cracking slightly as she reached her arms up into the air. "Buffy," she sighed, taking in her sister's neat appearance. "It's Saturday." That stopped her sister up short. "No school for me today."

Buffy gaped at her sibling. She slapped her hand against her forehead. "Oh God, you're right. I'm so sorry Dawn. Oh sweetie, go back to bed."

"C-can't," she mumbled through another yawn. "I'm up now. May as well stay up. I have to work this afternoon."

"You'll be too tired," Buffy warned gently. But Dawn just shook her head. 

"If I go back to bed, I'll sleep through my alarm. I can sleep in tomorrow. All day if I want." She moved past her sister to stumble into the kitchen and the waiting coffee. "You could go back to bed though."

"No I can't," Buffy shook her head. "Inventory week." Dawn nodded as she recalled the hectic days her sister had been putting up with. The final week of the month was always the time for inventory at the store. It was the way they tracked shoplifting and figured out what books were dead weights and shouldn't be carried. Daphne had specifically asked Buffy if she would mind working this Saturday, the first of October. Buffy didn't mind as it meant five hours over-time with time and a half wages. Daphne, who worked Tuesdays to Saturdays, wanted to be the one to train Buffy on how to enter inventory on their computer. 

"Oh yeah," Dawn muttered as she doctored her coffee she'd just poured. Plenty of sugar was definitely needed first thing in the morning. 

"I guess I got up, started getting ready and my mind was thinking me work, Dawn school," she explained sheepishly.

"It's okay Buff, really," she shook her head, carrying the mug to the table. She raised an eyebrow, seeing the plate of toast there. "Boy, you really were an automaton this morning, weren't you?"

"I couldn't sleep," the petite woman shrugged. Dawn just stared at her for a moment before reaching for a piece of the now cold breakfast. Ever since they'd started living in their new home, Buffy and Dawn, if they were up first, made their own breakfast. On certain days, when he was in the mood, Spike would make a big spread for everyone. But since they'd all started working, he usually reserved that now for their family only Sunday brunches. 

"Oh," Dawn mumbled around her mouthful, "I forgot to ask." She hastily swallowed. "Did you get that book yesterday I asked for?" Buffy nodded absently, deciding that she had time enough for one more cup of coffee before she had to catch the bus. Dawn had asked and given her money yesterday for a book she was interested in for her literature course. "Great! Where is it? I can start reading it today."

"Oh," Buffy shook her head clear, trying to remember what she'd done with the bag. "I think I put it on the desk." Dawn nodded and fixed herself a plate. Obviously she was going to gather her book, toast and coffee and find somewhere comfortable to read. Buffy hurriedly finished her coffee and was rinsing out her cup when she heard Dawn's slightly irritated voice. 

"I can't find it!"

"Well, it's there somewhere," Buffy called back. "Look around a bit." There was the muffled sound of Dawn sifting through the small mound of junk that had been piled on the convenient flat surface. And then recalled what she'd hidden there the night before. She zipped out of the kitchen, catching Dawn in the act of pulling out the little, white drugstore bag 

"What's this?" she was asking. Buffy leapt forward, snatching it from her hand.

"It's not your book," she muttered. Dawn managed to look affronted, annoyed and amused all at the same time.

"Keepin' secrets already Buff?" she teased finally. "And it's not even Christmas yet." 

"I'm not…" she began, but realized that that was exactly what she was doing. She had hidden this thing in an effort to keep her sister and Spike from seeing it. Spike especially. "It's nothing."

"It's okay Buffy," Dawn smiled, resting a reassuring hand on her sister's shoulder. Buffy nodded and pushed the bag back into it's hiding spot. She made a mental note to move it somewhere less conspicuous when she got home. 

"Oh, your book!" she recalled suddenly. "That's right. I set it on the desk and then forgot to tell you. So I put it on the top step, so you'd see it on your way up."

"Aha," Dawn chuckled. "The wonderful way your mind works." She moved off to find the bag with her much needed distraction. Buffy sighed, running her hand over the smooth wooden door that she had used to lock in not only her pregnancy test, but for now, the regret that was thrumming through her. She just couldn't deal with it at the moment. With a suffering groan, she pushed off the floor, straightening her legs as she stood. But as she did so, something black caught her eye. She remained half-crouched; staring puzzled, at Spike's weapon bag. How had it gotten there?

She could remember vaguely last night, when she had come back into the living room; she had stared at the coffee table. The bag Willow had brought the only thing there. It had almost been as if the thing were alive, calling to her, whispering about things she'd never had. She knew of course, that it was her own mind, her own insecurities. But she'd never been good with the abstract. Give her a big old demon to fight and she was your girl. This thing preying on her mind had to be stopped. So, in the comfortably illogical manner she clung to tenaciously, she'd hidden it. But Spike's bag hadn't been there. He'd taken it with him, as always, to work. Hadn't he? 

But just a few hours earlier, when Max had driven her fiancé home, had he had it? She'd been so happy to see him, which had warred with the fear she'd felt, especially after seeing his ragged countenance. She didn't really take in his appearance, except to make sure that he hadn't been hurt more than Max had said. Buffy inhaled sharply. Spike hadn't had his bag then, and Max hadn't come in past the doorstep. So she couldn't have dropped it in the living room. She'd walked Spike to the door, greeted the women, patted the male Slayer's shoulder and made her excuses to get back to her husband and daughter.

Buffy had been so grateful for the woman's help, especially considering that she'd just had a long flight home that Buffy just hadn't noticed. But now she did. The bag sat there on the floor, an amorphous harbinger of fear, confusion. Had Spike been home at some point before Max had given him a ride? Lorne had said that Spike had left work. If he had, why hadn't he found her and let her know? Then her startled glance shot back to that little, wooden door. Had he…?

"I thought you had to get to work Buff?" Dawn asked innocently, wondering what had distracted her sister this time? Really, she'd been a complete space cadet this morning. 

"Yeah," Buffy agreed hoarsely, her throat dry. "Work." Mechanically, she rose and gathered her purse. She brushed by her sister, no words of apology or farewell passing her numb lips. 

"Have a good day to you to," Dawn snorted as she headed once more for the sofa. 

***** 

Spike winced as the sun played over his face, taunting him with its cheerfulness. He swallowed heavily, wincing again at the stinging needles of pain the action produced. It served him right though, going on a bender like that. He hadn't remembered, hadn't cared that his mortal body wouldn't tolerate such things anymore. But he remembered now. And it was a high price to pay. Alcohol was just a stopgap measure. It might numb the pain, make the memories fade for a little while, but it was a high cost physically. Especially now that last evening's events were pulled into sharper focus than before. 

Spike dragged one arm across his face. Not to block out the sun. It didn't matter. But the tears welling up, burning him from the inside out did. He kept them at bay for as long as he could. But soon, the moisture in his eyes blurred everything. His arm flopped down and he gave in. He lay there silently; staring up at the ceiling while the tears flowed. He could have raged, screamed, broken things, but a little voice in the back of his head kept murmuring about the uselessness of it all. 

Spike lay still for as long as he could. But finally, the need to escape the little men in his head with their ringing hammers drove him out. The small breakdown he'd allowed himself had made it worse. The tears were no panacea. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this. Shower, plan and plenty of aspirin. He swayed slightly on his feet. All those things just maybe in a different order. 

***** 

"Uh oh, Buffy?" Daphne called to the blonde a few feet away from her. She'd just finished helping a customer. Buffy, who'd gotten the hang of inventory data entry fairly quickly, was staring forlornly at the computer screen. "Buffy?" she tried again. Finally, she was forced to step up to the woman seated before the computer and wave a hand between her and the screen. Buffy blinked quickly and then glanced up at her boss.

"Daphne, yes. What did you need?" she spoke hurriedly, realizing that she hadn't been paying attention.

"Do you realize that you've entered the same number for the last six books?" Daphne replied gently, pointing at the screen. "And I know that I certainly don't carry six hundred and fifty-four copies of King's work."

"Oh yeesh," Buffy replied sheepishly as she moved to correct her mistake. "I must have been tapping my fingers, or something."

"It's okay," Daphne shrugged. She watched as her newest employee applied herself to her task. But the set of her shoulders told her that the woman's mind was close to wandering again. "Problem sweetie?"

"Huh?" Buffy glanced up again; wondering what she did this time. 

"I was wondering if you were having problems," Daphne explained. "At home or something." The sharp inhalation of breath told her she was right. "Is it Dawn?" Buffy had shared some of the difficulties of trying to raise her sister after their mother had died. But those problems didn't usually make Buffy quiet. Normally, she'd rant about her sister for a moment before her sunny nature exerted itself. "Hmm, if it's not Dawn, then it must be Spike."

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy murmured, studiously avoiding the other woman's gaze. 

"What happened?" Daphne asked kindly. She wondered if she should pry. A bookstore wasn't exactly the best place for a heart to heart. But over the last few months, she and Buffy had become fairly good friends. Enough that they shared a little with each other. "Did you have a fight?" she wondered, fully prepared to help with whatever was on the blonde's mind.

"No, not exactly," Buffy returned slowly. She sighed and let the hand holding the inventory list slump down into her lap. It didn't seem as if Daphne were going to give up. And none of her closer friends were conveniently handy at the moment. "It's just, some things aren't adding up."

"Tell me," Daphne instructed, leaning against the desk.

***** 

Spike barely paused as he rushed down the stairs, so eager was he to start on his plan. He didn't notice Dawn, firmly ensconced in the living room. Her nose was buried in the book she was reading. She heard the thump of his feet landing on the floor as he jumped the last few steps. She whirled around, her back having been towards the hallway. But all she saw was her friend disappearing down the length of hallway. She frowned and went back to reading. If Spike was up already and not communicating, it must mean he had one hell of a headache. And from the whisper of alcohol she'd smelled on him last night when he'd gotten home, a hangover. 

She imagined he was probably downing an aspirin-coffee cocktail about now. But she was wrong. She heard the return of his stomping feet and refrained from giggling. Spike would never learn. He was his own worst enemy. He still insisted on wearing those dreadful combat boots and they were noisier than a cage full of monkeys. So if his headache grew worse, he had no one to blame but himself. But the feet went right on past her and out the door. She twirled around again as she heard the front door slam and moments later, the engine of the DeSoto start up. 

"Geez," she rolled her eyes. "Good morning Dawn. How are you Dawn? Sorry I can't stay, but I have to go clomp around in my boots and act like a dickwad." She adjusted the pillow behind her and drew her knees up to rest the book on. "The people in this house," she sighed. 

***** 

"And this morning, I noticed his bag," Buffy had brought Daphne up to date on most of the recent events, centering specifically on the evening before. Of course she'd deliberately left out all things Slayer related. "So that means he was home. But he left again and I think he went to get drunk."

"And you think he knew about the test?" Daphne asked. It had taken a while to get the whole story out, between serving customers and reassuring the petite blonde that having a baby wouldn't affect her job. 

"He must have," Buffy shook her head. "Why else would he leave?"

"There's lots of reasons," Daphne shrugged. "All I can tell you is to ask him."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. Once again, such a simple answer to a difficult problem. 

"I'll tell you what," Daphne offered. "There's only half an hour more of your extra shift. Go home and talk to him."

"But I haven't finished the inventory yet," she protested, glancing down at the list. 

"Eh," the other woman shrugged. "You've got the hang of it. I'll finish up. You go home and get things straight."

"Thanks," Buffy smiled softly at her friend. The woman was a dream to work for, especially in moments like these. The practical side of her sneered that Daphne may as well send her home, as she wasn't accomplishing much here. 

***** 

"I'm sorry Lorne," Spike apologized once again.

"It's all right man," Lorne sighed. It would be tough work getting to someone to take over Spike's shift, but if he had to, Lorne could serve up drinks as well as reading his customers. He'd done it before when they were short-handed. It wasn't as if he needed an entire song to get a handle on a person. And after the previous evening's debacle, he had been somewhat expecting it. Spike had rambled quite a bit and Lorne had been able to piece together what had occurred. He'd quietly offered to read Spike and Buffy. 

The blonde had haltingly sang a few lines, enough for Lorne to know that there was nothing wrong with him, physically, aside from the pain he felt over his and Buffy's failures so far. But Lorne hesitated to tell him that. Some sense he carried warned him to back off this one. Told him that it needed to play out on it's own. He almost itched to read Buffy and see if he got the same sense from her, but didn't want to intrude. If they came to him, it was a different matter. 

And then Spike had called to beg off work. And to let Lorne know he'd be late Monday due to a doctor's appointment. It didn't surprise him that Spike was willing to put himself in the hands of a complete stranger to help give Buffy what she wanted. And what Spike was also beginning to crave. 

"If I can, I can probably make up the hours next week," Spike offered. 

"Take your time sugar," Lorne dismissed the offer. "Family is important. You deal with that and then worry about work. Okay?""

"Yeah," he sighed. "Thanks again." He listened to the demon's farewell and then hung up his cell phone, turning onto their street as he did. 

***** 

Buffy had gotten home; knowing that Dawn would be at work. She wondered briefly if Spike were still sleeping off the effects of the evening before. But a quick trip to the bedroom told her otherwise. She headed for the kitchen, looking for a note, but found nothing. So she returned to the living room, debating what to do. She was drawn to the desk, to that little white bag. She withdrew it and set it on the coffee table. She stared at it as she seated herself, advice flowing through her mind. 

Just ask him. It was as simple as that. Ask him if he'd seen the test and left. He was Spike. He loved her. He wouldn't lie to her. _'Unless he was trying to protect me,'_ she thought bitterly. She glanced away, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. So many people had lied to her in the past; all with the noble excuse that they wanted to protect her. But the truth always came out. That's what she learned, the hard way. And the truth would come out today. It had to. The wondering alone was enough to drive her crazy. 

She'd sat there, watching the sun set, occasionally glancing at the clock. When four o'clock came, she wondered if Spike had gone out to run an errand before heading to work. She was about ready to call Caritas, just to make sure that he was still around when she heard the car pull up. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. 

The door opened and shut softly and she turned to watch his entry. He paused in the archway as soon as he saw her. There was an apologetic smile on his face, until he caught sight of the white paper bag. Then there was remorse, guilt, a little shame, as he dropped his gaze to the floor. 

"You saw it last night, didn't you?" Buffy asked, her voice rough with emotion. He didn't answer but to move into the living room. He swept up the bag, taking its place on the coffee table. He held the bag for a moment then set it aside. He leaned forward, his hands stroking her legs in an attempt to soothe her physically. He always did that when he feared that words wouldn't be enough. 

"I did, luv," he confirmed. Buffy nodded. 

"That's why you left," she went on. "You went out and got drunk. There was no second demon." He shook his head. She bit her lip, trying to keep them from trembling. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I-!" he began. His hands stilled for a moment, then moved to pick up her hands and twined his fingers in hers. "I didn't mean to. I saw you put that thing in the desk. I knew what it was. What else could it be? And I couldn't handle… couldn't deal…"

"Couldn't deal with me?" she challenged softly, holding her breath. His head shot up.

"No!" he growled, slightly angry that she could think he'd think that way. "The pain. I couldn't deal with the pain."

"So you left." It wasn't a question. "And what about me? Did you think that I could handle the pain? What, you thought Buffy's so used to disappointment in her life, this'll just be another crappy deal to get through?"

"No, I didn't think that," he tried to protest, but she was gathering steam.

"Do you think this is easy for me?" she yelled, pushing his hands away. "That every time I've felt the least little cramp, I just shrugged it off. Said no big deal. That every time I see a woman holding a baby, my arms ache for my own. That when I see your face when I tell you I'm not pregnant, or Dawn's face, or Willow's. When I see the disappointment, I just grin and figure that it won't be that way next month."

"I know," Spike growled, frustrated. "I know you don't. But I know how it is, to see that disappointment. I didn't ever want to see it in your eyes. And now I do, constantly. And it's tearing me apart as much as it is you!" His voice gentled and he scooted forward, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and make her forget that this was happening. "I know luv."

Anger boiled up in Buffy. She stared at him coldly. He knew? That was a laugh. How could he understand? He was a man. He existed only on the outskirts of this pain. "No! You don't know Spike!" she screamed, thrusting him away again. "You haven't dreamed about this for years. You haven't felt your body betraying you. You weren't in Heaven, holding a baby in your arms, promising that soon he'd be in this world. You weren't there. You don't know!"

Spike stared at her, shocked. Heaven? This had started that long ago? He tried to assimilate what she was saying, but it made no sense to him. He thought she'd told him everything about that time, but obviously he was wrong. It didn't help him now as she pushed past him and ran up the stairs. He stared after her dumbly. He groaned, burying his face in his hands. The Gods had pulled some crappy tricks on his fiancée and to a degree the rest of them. But this taunting, this back and forth, showing her what she could have and never giving it to her. First there'd been the hope of a normal life, taken from her at the tender age of fifteen, then again when the new Slayer had shown up. Her first love, with Angel going south. The sweet oblivion of death, peace in Heaven, cruelly torn from her, or her from it. And now this. Was life ever going to be right?

***** 

Dawn arrived home from work. She took one look at Spike, heard her sister's sobs from upstairs and wisely disappeared down to her room. She came back once, around eight to find some dinner. She looked as if she were going to speak a few times, but held back. So she went back to her little cave, hoping that this storm would pass swiftly. 

Spike was still sitting in the living room, on the sofa, past midnight when he heard movement. The moon was out, giving off its ethereal light. He turned his head away from study of it and caught sight of Buffy. She'd changed at some point in the evening into the T-shirt she'd cadged from him and occasionally wore to sleep in. The moonlight whispered over her body, making her seem not quite real. He'd always loved seeing her in the moonlight. Slowly, he held out his hand and she stole on silent feet to join him. She curled up beside him, leaning heavily into him. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her as much as she needed him. 

"He's so beautiful Spike," she whispered, trying to hold back the tears, pressing her face into his chest. Spike sighed and ran a finger town her tear-swollen cheek. 

"'Course he is luv," he agreed softly. With Buffy as his mother, how could he be anything but? 

"I want him so much," she whimpered. 

"I know you do," he answered. He tilted her head up, delivering a chaste, gentle kiss to her lips. He lingered a moment, then allowed her head to drop back to his chest. He rested his cheek on her silken hair. "We'll get him luv. Somehow, we'll fix this, and we'll have our baby."


	17. Bearer Of Bad News

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Seventeen

Bearer Of Bad News 

The days since Buffy discovered that Spike had known all along about the pregnancy test did not pass easily. There was something more between them, but they had lost something as well. Before, they had been making their way together. Now it felt as if they had separated and must start on that long road before them again. And sometimes Buffy wasn't so sure that she wanted to. Things, like always, seemed wonderful on the surface. But it wasn't. Sure, they had a home, jobs, Dawn was doing fairly well in school. Their friends were close. Slaying was easier every day. There were no apocalypses looming on the horizon. But this last time, with the lack of a child being produced between them, it seemed as if it were all crumbling down about their ears. 

They had spent that night, curled up about one another on the sofa. Dawn had found them in the morning and debated joining them. She'd eventually decided against it, knowing that even though she was aware, on the edge of things, she shouldn't interfere in this. Something big had happened between them and as much as she wanted to help, she could end up making things worse with her interference. She'd learned that much, about all relationships, not just Hellmouth born ones. So she had her breakfast in silence not waking the tired couple and descended once again to her little haven. She knew that sooner or later one or even both of them would clue her in to the details. 

There were no words between the engaged couple when they woke. Neither could express what was foremost in their hearts at that moment. Which was strange for Spike. He'd always been forthright, proud of what he was, doing, thinking. Even if he continually stuck his foot in it, at least people knew where he was coming from. Buffy had been like that once, when she was still young. But then the weight of her world intruded and secrets became a way of life. Secrets from her mother, her watcher, her lovers and friends. Even as they kept theirs from her. This last year, she'd finally begun to open up again, realizing that if she didn't let people know what was going on with her, she'd lose them. Whether it was the emotional intimacy they all craved, or from their being fed up with her reticence and actually leaving. But this was such a huge thing for them that neither knew where to start. 

So Buffy stole upstairs to shower while Spike wandered into the kitchen, finding the coffee that Dawn had started. The rest of the day continued like that. When one moved into nearby space, the other moved out. And when the day was done, there was the relief that the next day, Monday, would bring about the routine that they could escape into. One that would give them the easily accepted excuse that they had places to go, things to do, life to live, instead of the curious limbo they were despising. 

After work, where Daphne had grilled Buffy about her advice, Buffy was more than glad to get home. She was a little miffed that Daphne had come in on her day off just to find out how Buffy was doing. It was sweet in a way, but also more than the blonde Slayer was able to handle. Buffy felt as if she already had enough friends, and while she liked Daphne, things had progressed too rapidly for them to be on the terms of sharing what she was with people like Willow. But she was reminded by a nasty little voice in her head that it was she who had shared the problem with Daphne, so it was her own fault that the woman felt like she had some claim on her employees' life. 

Buffy absentmindedly collected the mail from the box as she opened the front door. She carried it in with her all the way to the kitchen. She set her purse on the counter, glancing at the fridge for any notes. There was one from Spike, a sweet little post-it, with a simple 'I love you' on it. She ran her finger over it, sighing as she did. She knew they needed to talk, needed to get this out. But he had left for work an hour ago. And he would be tired when he arrived home. Buffy planned a little, knowing that he had the next two nights off. Maybe that would give her enough time to figure a few things out and be calm enough and rational enough to clear some things up. Her revelations had startled, if not hurt him. And she was ready to admit that some of the things he said had merit as well. 

She shuffled through the mail, grimacing over the number of bills that arrived with the first week of the month. But her face lit up when she caught the Italian postmark. A letter from Xander was always a good way to cheer her up. She threw the other letters onto the counter again and clutched Xander's letter to her chest. It was addressed to her and Spike, which was strange. It usually bore her name or Dawn's. Buffy smiled to herself. It looked like Xander was doing some maturing as well. She pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and made her way to the most comfortable chair in the house. She wanted time to relish the communication from one of her oldest friends. 

Once she was settled, and had the letter and bottle opened, she leaned back to peruse the latest hilarity that had befallen her friend. What she didn't expect was to read that her friend was deliriously happy to announce that he was going to be able to make it to their wedding. The letter slipped from numbed fingers into her lap. She set the bottle of water down and gazed unseeingly at the white paper with the blue, shaky markings on it. 

The wedding. For the last few months, she, Dawn and Willow had been planning it as time allowed. She, with a minimal amount of input from Spike, had decided to have an extremely small outdoor ceremony on the beach. Casual dress was all right. Spike was going to wear the suit he had worn to Max and Angel's wedding. Buffy had looked during her breaks for a decent, affordable dress. Dawn had seen a lovely, midnight blue sheath dress that Buffy had approved of for the girl. They'd decided that they didn't need groomsmen or bridesmaids, as they didn't want to offend anyone not chosen. It was going well. But all thoughts of the wedding had been pushed from Buffy's mind with thoughts of a baby tearing her up from the inside. But now, one thought resonated in her mind. With all this insanity going on, should she and Spike be getting married?

It wasn't a question that she had a ready answer for. It continued to run around her traitorous mind even as she read the rest of Xander's letter. She dropped the pages finally, when she realized that she'd absorbed nothing of what the man had written beyond his acceptance of the invitation. Buffy bit her lip as she recalled the invitations that she and Dawn had labored so hard over. They'd deliberated over the selection of ready-made invitations, as they didn't need many. Spike had suggested just calling everyone a few days prior to the date and giving out details. He'd quickly learned about the volume of two Summers women compared to one for that little blunder, swearing that he was deaf for a good three days afterwards. 

In the end, they'd chosen a cream colored cardstock with a gorgeous spray of lilacs on the bottom. Dawn had borrowed a wedding etiquette book from the library and had set about writing out the necessary information on each of the cards. Buffy had guilted her into writing the addresses as well, as her sister had the neater penmanship of the two. But Dawn had been adamant that Buffy lick the envelopes and stamps. And then Spike had been his usual smart-assed self and brought her a sponge, just as she'd reached the second to last envelope. She'd offered to kiss him, if his thoughtfulness hadn't been a little too late. He'd complained about her 'glue breath' and she'd ended up chasing him about the house, trying to get in said kiss. It had been a wonderful, relaxed evening. 

And it all seemed so far away now, that evening. There seemed no way of getting it back now. Buffy ran the letter through her fingertips, wondering how or even if she should respond to Xander. Certainly, she still loved Spike. That hadn't changed. What had, or simply re-emerged was the lack of confidence in herself. Could she marry Spike, knowing that there was a possibility that she'd never give him a child? What if they did marry and he came to resent her for that major lack? For no amount of his being Dawn's pseudo-big brother could fill the urge that she, Buffy had unwittingly awoken in him. 

And so her mind rife of the many possibilities folded the letter back into its haphazard thirds and slid it back into the envelope. It, along with the pregnancy test, were now on the same agenda of things that must be talked about. Buffy took another sip of water. She stared off towards the darkening sky. She felt small in the face of the clouds marring what she could see of the deepening blue. The padding of the cushion that surrounded her, swallowing her whole. The easy feel of the soft velour napping suddenly chafing at her despite the barrier of her clothing. The very strange sensation of feeling that she didn't fit in her body began to unnerve her. It didn't take long for the need for action to move her. 

She was out of the chair, moving to the phone before her mind logically deciphered her plan. All the pre-conditioning in the Watcher's led them to believe that the Slayer was more efficient working on her own. No attachments to distract her. Connections, emotions, love was a hindrance. But Buffy had blown them out of the water. Her attachments and emotions made her better than what she should have been. And the support and love she'd had from her friends and family in the early years was enough to sustain her through the dark year, as she now tended to think of it. But the aftermath of that emotion filled journey of nothingness had taught her a valuable lesson. Some emotions had to be dealt with, head on.

The emotion sucking her in right now was loneliness. The feeling that no one else on earth understood where she was coming from. And as she'd illustrated before, so long ago to Giles, no one could understand her life because she was the one enduring it, trying to live it. Even with all the new Slayers, they still didn't understand. For all of them, one slip, one mis-step and that was the end. It was how Buffy had thought, when she was younger and freshly despised her destiny. But then Xander had brought her back. He'd also been in on it years later when Willow had worked her mojo. Did it make her cocky? To think that it had happened twice, it could happen again? No, because she knew they'd learned their lesson the last time around. So it was true that even in the midst of a large Slaying family they'd created, no one, not even Faith understood her life fully.

But on the other hand, there were other women out there that weren't getting pregnant. But Buffy knew none of them that she was aware of. But she needed to connect in that simple way that empathetic women had with each other. Being able to say 'I know', even if you didn't, simply because the same hormones at one time or another coursed through your body. So that was why she was calling Willow. That and the added fact that her brain was hinting in a niggling, annoying voice that she'd kept meaning to call Wills. They'd needed some one on one time for a while now; not only to discuss the latest Summers' crisis, but to discuss the downturns of the Wiccan's life as well. 

She was so very caught up in these thoughts as she lifted the receiver, that she didn't notice her hand bump the redial button. She set the letter from Xander beside the phone and punched in the number to the Hyperion, hoping that Willow was there. She was momentarily stunned by the unfamiliar voice that came over the line. Until she realized that it was a recording. But it was not the standard one that Cordy had recorded.

"Hello," the pleasantly voiced woman announced. "You have reached the Jamison Family Planning Clinic. Office hours are from eight a.m. to five p.m. If you are experiencing a medical emergency and need to speak to a doctor, please call-!" Buffy slammed the phone down, staring at it in confusion. She stayed motionless for a brief moment before her eyes crept heavenward. She shivered slightly, wondering if someone up there was trying to tell her something. She laughed out loud then, bemused at her own assumption. It was just one of those incredibly strange coincidences. She'd just misdialed. Shaking her head, she dismissed her musings and returned to her phone call.

***** 

Spike was feeling guilty. 

The annoying prickling on the back of his neck, similar, yet completely different from his Slayer sense had kept him off balance all day. Right from the moment he'd awoken, and had pretended to still be asleep. He'd watched Buffy through slitted eyes as she'd padded around the bedroom, getting ready for work. He normally wasn't up until noon or so on weekdays. He'd wake enough to kiss her goodbye, and then drift into slumber as the comforting sounds of she and Dawn moving through the house lulled him back to sleep. But today, he couldn't even give her that brief moment of comfort. For he was worried that she'd see the … whatever it was in his eyes.

She called it his impy eyes. The look, the glimmer that told her he had a plan in mind or an idea that she might not like. And usually she was right. And still, in all these years, he hadn't learned to hide that from her. He'd hidden a lot of emotions from her, when he was a Vampire. But he couldn't kid himself any more. It hadn't been so much his ability to hide, but her unwillingness to look. And it wasn't just his eyes. These days, he wasn't fool enough to think it was just that. She had learned, as had he with her, certain telltale signs. The eyes, the set tension in the body, certain nervous phrases, used despite the best attempt not too. All signs that something was off. 

It wasn't precisely that he was doing this behind Buffy's back for her own wellbeing. Spike knew that whatever the outcome, she would be hurt. Hurt for her, for him, for them and whatever they couldn't have. But somewhere along the line it had clicked in his mind that he needed to do this for her. He'd been taking the blows for her for so long that he didn't know what else to do. It was hard for him to remember that sometimes the emotional aftermath was infinitely more difficult than the initial trauma. 

Once Buffy and Dawn had left, Spike had pursued his day. On Saturday, he'd contacted a likely looking doctor out of the phone book. That doctor's receptionist had referred him to the Jamison Family Planning Center where they did fertility work. Of course, the clinic was constantly taking on new patients. Spike had called there and had been able to worm his way into a fifteen-minute consultation with Doctor Ferguson that afternoon. The appointment had been stilted. Dr. Ferguson had been surprised that Spike had admitted to being in a relationship, but hadn't brought his partner in. And was even more so when Spike explained that no, Buffy hadn't been tested as yet, to his knowledge. But despite the good doctors feeling that it was better for couple to do this together, he couldn't turn away a patient in need.

So two days later, Spike had been put through the rigors of a full physical. It was noted in his file, his thoroughly falsified file, that he hadn't been though any medical treatment in years. So, the physical tests were run, blood was drawn and of course the expected wank behind closed doors was endured. But he did it for his fiancée's sake and to a lesser degree, his own. He needed answers for both of them. But the manner he'd gone about doing it weighed heavily on him. Angel's voice resounded in his mind at the oddest times. Advice that he wondered about, whether it was really coming from his own conscious or not. Because calling himself an idiot who should tell Buffy the truth before this went any further certainly did sound like the type of advice the wanker liked to hand out. 

Spike sighed as he absentmindedly completed another drink order. He'd only been slightly late for his shift at Caritas. And Lorne, knowing what was going on, hadn't said a word. Of course, that hadn't stopped the green demon from letting his eyes flicker sympathetically over the former Vampire. Even now, as every time before, Lorne turned back to the stage, focusing on a blonde enigma's performance. Spike pushed the drink over to the customer, smiling automatically at the lame pick-up that was thrown into the quiet that strangely surrounded him. He just shrugged, not even bothering to process what the woman said. His thoughts were still a merry-go-round in his head. To tell Buffy or not to tell her. 

***** 

Buffy stared dejectedly at the meal set out on the table. Dawn had finally breezed home from school, grabbed a burger that her sister had made from the table and ran down to her room. Buffy barely caught the mumblings about the hot date. So it looked like some sisterly bonding was out of the question. After she'd called the hotel and had been told that Willow wasn't available, she'd figured that she and Dawn could hang out. But that apparently wasn't to be. So she began to serve up her solitary meal, her flustered mind working to focus on the sounds emitting from the basement. It was a welcome distraction from her damn thoughts, her lips curving as she recalled the frenetic excitement of a new guy to primp and pretty herself for. 

She finished quickly and began to clear away the food, making up a plate for Spike if he wanted merely by rote. Since he hadn't appeared to be home all day, she could only guess that he'd probably grabbed something somewhere else. Just as she was slipping the last dish into the sink to be washed, she heard a knock at the front door. Realizing that it must be Dawn's date, she wiped her hands off on the dishcloth and moved languidly down the hall. She caught sight of the time, smiling that this guy seemed to be punctual, if they had indeed set their date for seven o'clock. She swung the door open and was greeted by the gentle sight of a six-foot brunette wearing blue jeans, a black shirt and a leather jacket. Buffy smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Yeah hi," the young man grinned down at her. "I'm Jason. I'm here to pick up Dawn." Buffy grinned to herself at the guy's cocky assurance. She stepped back to let him inside. 

"I'm Buffy, Dawn's sister," she stated, although she had an inkling he'd already figured it out. And even though she knew she shouldn't, she let her senses reach out and take in the feel of him. It wasn't an intrusion in her mind. Just an accepted part of their weird life. Because whether Dawn liked to admit it or not, the Summer's women, hell, all the Hellmouth alum attracted weird people. But this guy was clean. "Have a seat," she gestured to the living room. "I'll go see if Dawn's ready."

Jason nodded and moved to take a seat on the couch. Buffy glanced outside as she was closing the door. The only car there had to have been his. And Buffy was slightly relieved to see two other people sitting in the back of the blue vehicle. Hot date also seemed to be group date. Which was smart of Dawn on more than one level Buffy decided. She turned and moved to the basement door, slipping in and making it halfway down before calling for her sister in a quiet tone.

"Yeah Buffy?" Dawn stuck her head out her door. 

"Jason's here," the petite blonde announced. Dawn nodded and ducked back into her room, emerging a moment later with purse and jacket in hand. 

"Cute, isn't he?" she asked, grinning up at her sister.

"I've seen worse," Buffy chuckled lightly as she climbed the steps. 

"Oh, just cause he isn't bottle blonde with killer blue eyes," Dawn snickered. 

"Yeah, he's cute," Buffy giggled. Well, it wasn't the evening she'd planned or hoped for, but at least Dawn was going to have a good time, or so she hoped. She waited until Jason had politely stood and was helping Dawn with her jacket on. The urge to play mother to her little sister was too strong. "So, where are you going?" she asked as gently as she could, biting her lip. Dawn's eyes flickered for a moment and Buffy could see both amusement and annoyance there. 

"Movies," Jason answered succinctly. "There's a seven forty-five showing." Buffy nodded and he glanced down at his date. "Did you manage to catch dinner?" he asked solicitously. Dawn nodded. 

"Buff had dinner ready when I got home," Dawn informed him. She glanced at her sister, warning her not to say anything. But Buffy was still biting her lip, just to prevent that. "Well we should get going," Dawn squared her shoulders. It had been a while since Buffy had been around one of her guys and she really didn't want to give her inquisitive sister the chance to start the question game. 

"All right," Buffy nodded. "Have a good time."

"We will," Dawn smiled back at her, trying to convey her thanks at the easy-going manner her older sibling was projecting. "Oh!" Her hand went to her pocket as she tried to assure herself. Her hand gripped around the outside, outlining a little rectangular case. "Yep, I've got my cell phone," Dawn announced. Buffy nodded and followed them to the door. She smiled wistfully as she watched Jason hold the car door open for her little sister and then hurried around to his side. The car pulled away smoothly and Buffy felt her heart clench a little more. She let the door drift shut, pushing it a little to make sure it caught, then leaned against it, staring up at the ceiling. Spike was working, Dawn was on a date, and Willow was unavailable. Well, just like any other time, Slaying it was. 

***** 

Buffy growled to herself as she stalked back towards her home. She'd been feeling the nervous, twitchy energy building up inside her all day. She was ready to talk damn it! And there was no one to talk to. Spike, working, Willow, gone and Dawn, date! So she'd resorted to the one thing left to her to work off some of that energy. Slaying. But then the nasty demons and Vampires that roamed the nightlife were nowhere to be found. There was only one instance that even came close to a confrontation. She'd been pushing out her senses and had shivered uncontrollably as something drifted by her. It wasn't a Vampire, the feel was totally wrong for it. It didn't feel like a demon. The closest feeling she could describe was as if someone were walking over her grave. Which she knew to be a literal impossibility. Unless of course the government had research teams combing the ruins of Sunnydale. 

The feeling, on top of her strung out nerves did serve one purpose. And that was to nearly make Wes wet himself. When he'd seen Buffy in the cemetery, he'd called out to her. But from the look of concentration on her face, knew she hadn't heard him. So he'd approached cautiously, learning from his time as a Watcher and as a member of Team Angel to go slowly with no sudden movements. But that hadn't stopped her from spinning around with a high kick directly to his chest and the split second after he'd landed, nearly losing his chance at ever procreating, while taking in the stake poised less than an inch from his heart. 

"Oh God! Wes!" Buffy squeaked. She scrambled back, stuffing the stake into her back pocket before holding out a hand to help him up. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

Wes arched an eyebrow at her extended limb, then carefully took hold. In her nervousness, she pulled a little harder than she meant to and the Brit was nearly yanked to his feet. "I was, well, honestly…" he cleared his throat. "I was trying to prevent just that from happening."

"You should know better than to sneak up on a Slayer," Buffy lectured wryly, watching him brush himself off. 

"I didn't sneak!" he proclaimed indignantly as his head shot up to stare at her, clearly hurt by her assessment. Buffy tilted her head to the side, clearly disbelieving him. "Really. I called your name and made as much noise as possible as I approached."

"Uh huh," Buffy murmured, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I did," he protested. "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention."

"Me?" Buffy scoffed. "I was paying attention." She bit her lower lip, wondering why she was arguing with the man. Honestly, she knew that Wes knew better. He would make as much noise as possible. He even made noise when he was trying to be quiet. But Buffy would never tell him that. The man needed a little dignity after all. "I guess just not to you."

"And what were you concentrating on?" he wondered, interested in why the premiere Slayer of the generation was off her game. 

"It's nothing," Buffy finally dismissed. "Just a ghost on my grave."

"That's odd," Wes grimaced. He'd been around the mystic too long to believe that a Slayer sensing the supernatural aside from demons was a coincidence. 

"So what are you doing here?" Buffy asked quickly before Wes got off rambling on one of his tangents. 

"Oh, well, er," Wes stammered. "I was looking for someone." Buffy's eyebrows went up again.

"In a graveyard?" she chuckled. "At night? Without a weapon?" She was going to let that sink in, but Wes surprised her by patting down his leather jacket until he came to the stake he'd inserted there earlier. She nodded, taking in his preparedness. "Was it a contact?"

"No," Wes shook his head. "Not really. You didn't happen to see a blonde woman, probably early to mid forties pass by here?"

"Uh uh," Buffy shook her head as well. "Nobody's been around for a while. Just you and me."

"Well that's odd," Wes ruminated again. "I could have sworn she came this way." He sighed and stuffed the stake back in its secret place. 

"Who?"

"Oh, I don't know her," Wes chuckled. Buffy grinned knowingly. 

"But you'd like to, huh?" she teased gently. Wes looked thoroughly confused at her inference. "Never mind." She yawned a little, finally feeling like the energy she'd been playing with had finally worn off, given the veracity of her little encounter with the former Watcher. "Well, have fun finding her. I'm going to head home."

"You're not going to help me?" Wes' face fell momentarily. 

"Wes," Buffy giggled, "I'm a Slayer, not a dating service." His eyes opened a little wider, as if finally understanding what she was getting at. He hastily backpedaled. 

"Oh no no," he grunted. "It's nothing like that…" he trailed off, glancing away uncertainly. Buffy just rolled her eyes, appreciating the fact that his appearance had taken her mind off her troubles for at least fifteen minutes. But of course, thinking that had led her right back to where she didn't particularly want to be. She glanced back at the stammering man before her. What the hell? She had nothing to do for a couple hours. And teasing Wes could just be so much fun. 

"All right you studly manly man," she sighed good-naturedly, grabbing his arm and heading back the way she'd came. "Let's go find your mystery woman."

***** 

A week after that incident and Buffy wondered if it had been the catalyst in a chain reaction event. Suddenly everyone was avoiding her. Some people she could understand why. She'd heard through the grapevine that just before she'd called that Monday, Max and Kennedy had had a big blowout and Willow had finally given in and told the brunette Slayer to leave. Buffy had talked to Will briefly on the phone and the redhead had asked for some time before spilling everything. Buffy had wisely backed off and assured her friend that she'd be ready to listen when the time came. 

Max and Angel were getting back in the swing of things, so their return from overseas had Giles, Cordy, Wes and Gunn tied up. Giles mainly to see his granddaughter. The others were back at work, saving Angel's hopeless. Even so, their paths never once crossed while patrolling. Not that Buffy had seen the others too often before Max and Angel got back. So she could live with that. Dawn was busy too. Her first date with Jason had gone extremely well. And she liked the people he'd had as friends. So when she wasn't working or in school, she could generally be found hanging out with them. All of this Buffy could understand. What bothered her was Spike. 

He'd picked up extra shifts at Caritas on Tuesday and Wednesday. Then his regular shifts happened Thursday, Friday and Saturday. But instead of coming straight home, he'd headed off to patrol. She'd managed to ask him about it once and his only answer was that even with Angel back, LA was a big town to cover. She'd tried once to go with him, but he insisted on splitting up. The rejection and hurt she'd felt in those moments nearly made her heart stop it was hurting so badly. 

On Sunday morning, Spike had grilled Dawn about her new boyfriend, barely letting Buffy get a word in edgewise. After a few aborted attempts, she had sat back and watched him. He tried to concentrate fully on Dawn and what she was saying. But every so often, his gaze would slip to her face. And Buffy stared right back at him, trying to interpret what was being so carefully hidden. Fear? Anger? Regret? It was almost enough to make her jump to conclusions. 

She warred with herself all afternoon. Was Spike regretting continuing their relationship? Was he sorry that he'd asked her to marry him? Was he mad at her, maybe blaming her for not getting pregnant? Was he going to leave her? The air flew from her lungs at that thought. It haunted her the rest of the day and through the night. She was actually relieved when Spike announced that he was going out. She prepared herself for bed, huddled under the covers; alternating between a blind panic at the thoughts in her head and chastising herself for said panic. 

But the next day, her panic was exchanged for a new emotion. She'd gotten off work as usual, knowing that Spike wouldn't be home since his shift started at four. Dawn would be home for dinner, she thought, as she didn't have work. But that was up in the air, as the teen was spending the majority of her free time either with Jason, or on the phone about him. Buffy sighed as she made her way through the house. She'd developed a headache that morning, partially from lack of sleep, but mostly from the chaotic cacophony in her mind. She shuffled her way around the kitchen, automatically preparing dinner, her mind not all there. It took about four trips to the refrigerator before she noticed the post-it that Dawn had left. With a groan, she shut the door and pulled the sticky tab free. Too late, she noticed it was addressed to Spike. 

A split second later, the vaguely familiar name Jamison jumped out at her. Someone named Jamison had called and would try to contact him at work. If not, they'd call back tomorrow. She read it through a few more times, although the searing words were already committed to memory. But not a man named Jamison. The Jamison Family Planning Clinic. The impact crashed in on her and suddenly she understood the strange, contemplative looks Spike had been giving her. It wasn't fear for her. It was fear of her. Buffy leaned against the counter; one arm wrapped around her waist as her finger absently rubbed at the square piece of paper. 

She knew now what had to have been running through Spike's mind. As well as she knew her own fears, she had quite the handle on his. And she thought he'd worked through them. But there was always the fear that he was coming in second best for the person that mattered most to him. For so long, he'd accused her of using Angel as her measuring stick in all other relationships. And to an extent it had been true. Until Spike. He'd broken every boundary she'd had, high and low. They'd gone further with each other than she'd ever imagined possible with Angel and even his alter ego Angelus. She had no doubts now about her love for the blonde male Slayer. But did he still harbor reservations about the depth of her commitment? Was that why he'd kept his visit to the clinic a secret? 

Buffy gnawed on her lower lip. Spike, who'd never been sick since his first days as a human, now had to face the most damning thing imaginable. He couldn't father a child. Buffy glanced once more at the note, debating whether or not to replace it on the fridge for him. But she finally decided that it was unnecessary. She'd tell him herself. And then tell him that it didn't matter to her. He was still the man she loved. And his going to a clinic was actually a good thing, she decided spontaneously. The argument built in her head. She knew she'd be able to convince him of that. Despite whatever negative outcome his tests must have said, the advances science had made in the fertility field were extraordinary. Buoyed by these thoughts, Buffy felt her spirits lift. Whatever his condition was, they'd overcome. A brief flash of her little boy waiting flew through her mind. _'Soon,'_ she promised both herself and that amorphous figure waiting for his time.

***** 

Spike paused on his way up the walk. The Jamison clinic had finally called with his results. He'd just barely gotten to work and Lorne had informed him that he had a personal call. He'd ducked into the office and had braced himself for the news. His heart leapt into his stomach and he'd had to swallow a few times before he answered the nurse on the other end of the line He nearly couldn't breathe when she dropped her bombshell. It wasn't him. All reactions and bodily functions were intact. It wasn't him. Motility looked good. It wasn't him. The doctor believed that his chances of contributing to conception were high. It wasn't him. But they wanted him to bring his partner in for testing. It wasn't him. It was Buffy.

He'd worked the rest of the night, slightly nauseous, mostly nervous. How to tell the one person you loved more than anything in the world that she was technically defective. When he finished his shift, he made no excuses to himself. There was no more running from this. He couldn't use any more excuses such as work, or Slaying. He had to go home and confront this. And then the flickering light from the master bedroom caught his eye. Somehow he'd known that Buffy would be waiting up. They'd been dancing around each other for too long. With reluctance, he grimaced and forced himself to continue up to the house. 

He paused in the doorway to the bedroom; having dispensed of is boots and coat at the front door. But she'd heard him. She was curled up in the winged chair situated in the corner of the room near the window. She watched him, watching her and then slowly, unfurled her legs from where they were tucked up and rose from her chair. Spike was across the room in a heartbeat, gathering her up close to him. She hugged him back fiercely, stroking her hands up and down his back. 

"Love you," he whispered brokenly. 

"I know," she crooned into his ear. "I know you do. And it's okay."

He pulled back in surprise, trying to read her face. She smiled gently, encouragingly. "You know/"

She nodded slowly. "They called here first."

"Oh God Buffy," he moaned. "I'm so sorry luv."

"It's all right," she murmured, pulling him close again. "Whatever the problem, we can work through it. It doesn't mater to me if you can't have children. We'll figure this out. You know, they've made incredible advancements…" She trailed off as he jerked back from her in surprise. She winced inwardly at the astonishment on his face. Had she made a mistake, bringing this up so quickly? He was probably still reeling from the news himself. 

"Buffy," he said it so quietly that she had to strain to hear him. "It's not me."


	18. Strength Of The Soul

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated R

Chapter Eighteen

Strength Of The Soul

"It's all right," she murmured, pulling him close again. "Whatever the problem, we can work through it. It doesn't matter to me if you can't have children. We'll figure this out. You know, they've made incredible advancements…" She trailed off as he jerked back from her in surprise. She winced inwardly at the astonishment on his face. Had she made a mistake, bringing this up so quickly? He was probably still reeling from the news himself. 

"Buffy," he said it so quietly that she had to strain to hear him. "It's not me."

***** 

She stared at him, not comprehending him. She could see his mouth forming words, but there was no sound. There was no air, nothing in the room, but for the movement of his lips. He approached her slowly but she skittered backwards, away from him. Her eyes narrowed as he paused, his hand held out to her. She shook her head slowly, her ears starting to ring. Softly, his voice started to break through her momentary deafness. 

"…an appointment for you day after tomorrow," he was saying. 

Her eyes closed briefly. She tilted her head to the side. "W-what?" she managed to croak. Spike sighed heavily, running a distracted hand through his short locks. 

"I said, I went ahead and made an appointment for you," he repeated himself. Her eyes flashed once at him and he realized immediately, as he'd done so earlier that taking such a step without her knowledge was a risky thing. "If you want it, that is."

"Why would I want it?" Buffy rasped out. "It's not you, so obviously it's me." Spike let his eyes drift shut. She was taking this about as well as he'd expected. "Why would I need some doctor to tell me that I'm fucked up?"

"Don't say that," Spike warned softly. "We don't know exactly what's wrong."

"We?" Buffy scoffed. "Don't say 'we' Spike. You already know you're fine! I'm the one who's messed up here. So don't talk to me about what's wrong!" She shouted the last and spun away from him, trying to get a grip on herself. She knew rationally that this wasn't his fault. He was just the one to tell her the truth. She laughed to herself. She'd been so determined to get the truth laid out before them. To address what she had assumed to be his fears and let him know that she shared them. But that had all changed with that one important piece of knowledge. 

Buffy felt herself begin to crumble as those damning words echoed in her head. It wasn't Spike. All her assumptions had been just that. Not fact. Not truth. It was her fault. She was to blame for their childlessness. A small keening cry escaped the lips tightly pressed together. Strong arms encircled her as her knees began to shake and she felt herself sliding to the floor. 

Spike went down with her, trying to gentle the impact, succeeding mostly because her limp body refused to co-operate into a full-blown faint. She landed on her knees, hunched over as her arms grasped tightly at her own waist. Spike knelt beside her, his arms wrapped about her waist, his cheek resting against the softness of her hair. He simply held her, let her absorb this news. He knew it was a certainty he felt with every fiber of his being that the storm was just about to start. And he was right.

It started with small motion. She was rocking forward slightly. He knew she wasn't trying to escape him, but the pain. Just when the stillness began to be too much for her and her body needed movement before it went crazy. Trying to escape the pain in the mind, the emotions, it used physicality to escape. And then the whimpering. It tore his heart up to hear it. And between that, the mumbling. Softly at first, until he could make out the words. But he needn't have expended thought to deciphering it. He knew the litany passing from her mouth before she even spoke it. How it was her fault. She was wrong. She had come back wrong. But the last caught him by surprise. How he must hate her. 

With careful motion, he swept one hand under her crumpled knees and moved the other to her back. He swept her up and took a few steps until he reached the bed. The absurd notion that Buffy'd kill him if he wore his boots to bed was swiftly dismissed. He arranged them; sitting up against the headboard, his fiancée curled up in his lap like a tired child who stubbornly refused to go to bed. Spike moved his hands securely around her and rocked her gently against him. It took long minutes for her to pull away from the motion. To be able to speak coherently again. 

"Why?" she moaned softly, biting back the tears that wanted to fall. 

"Why what luv?" Spike watched her, moving his hand to push the hair back out of her face. 

"Why is this happening?" Buffy sighed. "Why did I have to come back wrong? Why can't I have a child?" her voice broke as she said this and the floodgates were opened. Spike simply tucked her face into his shoulder, letting her cry. God knew how many times over the past few weeks that he'd felt the urge to do similar. When the tide didn't seem to slow, he began murmuring softly to her. 

"We don't know that for sure luv," he whispered in her ear, not knowing if she was even able to hear him through the raging thunder of her mind. But it didn't matter. He'd say it over and over until she understood. Until he had her convinced that this could be helped, fixed, corrected. They had no proof that this problem was a result of her death years ago. When Willow brought her back, so little had physically changed about her that it was impossible that her death had destroyed her chances at a family. So little had changed. And yet at the same time it had been so profound that no one, least of all Spike, could wrap his or her head around the enormity of her pain. 

"You need to see the doctor," he continued, pushing away the secret deep fear that was burrowing through his soul. There was no way he could communicate that fear to her ever. If he let loose for one second, one moment, then any hope he tried to create in her would be forever lost. He had to stand strong to keep her strong. It was the only way she could persevere in this. She shuddered slightly in his arms. "There's so many things it could be," he reasoned. The doctor had already gone over multiple scenarios with Spike. Just to give him an idea of what they might be facing. But Buffy didn't know yet. Time, fate and her own weaknesses pushed her to focus on this one thing. This one deficiency that she was holding to. He had to make her see that it wasn't the only answer. "We'll go to the appointment and let the doctor figure this out," he offered. And knew immediately that pushed her to focus on this one thing. This one deficiency that she was holding to. He had to make her see that it might not be her whacked out life that had brought them to this point. Before this life, before she'd been called, she'd been a fifteen-year-old girl. Destiny may have taken a different path for her when she became a Slayer, but surely biology played an important factor before she ever reached that stage. 

Facing these things was always difficult. But Spike had honestly begun to believe that there was nothing they couldn't overcome. At times there was loss. But Buffy's resurrection and his own, it all pushed him towards the belief that they were near invincible. And if they wanted a child, then they were going to have one. They just needed to figure out how. He just hated how hard the life had to be sometimes. Things had been made easier by the happiness in their hearts. But time was slowly whittling away at that initial joy. As personal life seemed destined to crash, so professional was drug down as well. Each day was becoming more a chore than something to be savored. Recently both Spike and Buffy had tried to keep reminding themselves that they only had to get through one day at a time, one moment. Make it to the next and don't contemplate whatever else might be waiting in the wings to cave in on them. It had worked. For a while. Until now. 

***** 

The evening before her barrage of tests was to take place; Buffy was a frazzled bundle of nerves. She'd tried to remain calm. Daphne had understandingly given her the next day off, saying Buffy could make it up on Saturday, so she didn't need to worry about work. And she didn't. She had more worrisome things on her mind. She didn't like hospitals. She never had. Losing her cousin Celia, killing der Kinderstod, Willow's coma, her mother's illness and death. All were valid reasons to fuel her discomfort and fear of the institutionalized buildings. Never mind that this was a clinic she'd be attending, it would carry the same antiseptic smells that pervaded the halls of healing. But for Buffy, every hall where healing was to occur had become a link to loss. Sometimes physical, sometimes emotional, but loss all the same. 

***** 

Buffy squared her shoulders, staring resolutely at her reflection in the cold mirror before her. It was the day of reckoning, in her mind. Her appointment was set for nine o'clock and would last most of the morning. Spike had told her the evening before what his tests had included. And some parts of it frightened Buffy more than the physical aspects. She was a Slayer. She could handle them sticking a needle in her arm, or the requisite private exam. But going back over her history of injuries. It preyed on her mind. Could one Vampire's powerful kick to her abdomen be responsible for this? Could any of the poisons she'd been inadvertently exposed to render her infertile. And worst of all, how the hell did she explain to the doctor that she'd been technically dead for several months and came back changed on a molecular level. 

With a sigh, she finished applying the last of her make-up. She eyed herself critically. Today it seemed more as if the light make-up she applied around her eyes and on her lips was war paint. Or perhaps one of those strange foreign art masks that her mother had once upon a time been so enamored with. Buffy smirked habitually as she recalled the number of problems those wacky artistic finds, not just her mothers, had caused in her life. There was so much magic wrapped up in those items, that it had been hard to contemplate the natural magic that imbued the world around them. And just when she wanted to be able to appreciate the most basic, yet the most awesome of them all, she was denied. 

She rose from her perch, hearing Spike usher Dawn out the door and off to school. He had insisted on going with her. She'd made a token protest. After all, she hadn't been there for his tests. But he understood how much more difficult, time consuming and emotionally wrenching it was going to be for her. And once upon a time, it might have irked her that Spike of all people had such a clear understanding of how her mind worked. Sometimes better than she herself did. But today it was a comfort. She could just react, let herself be. And not have to worry about explaining herself to those around her. Spike was her wall. Her impenetrable tower. The thing that would keep her safe until she was ready to come down and face the world again. 

"You ready pet?" his soft voice interrupted her musings. Buffy bit her lip gently, holding back the sudden wave of love and tears when she looked up at him. There were just too many reasons to cry. And with all she was facing today, she didn't want the resultant headache that would come if she let loose now. She simply nodded and rose from her seat at the vanity table. 

***** 

Buffy and Spike's heads were whirling when they arrived home. It was the middle of the afternoon. As expected the tests took all morning. The doctor had been running behind, but the nurses were familiar enough with the practice to get her started on the paperwork. And Buffy had naturally deliberated over a lot of it. Spike had helped a little, coming up with creative explanations for some of the "accidents" that had befallen her. Some even at his own hands. A shudder had gone through him many times over when he realized again that it could very well be him that had unwittingly thrown them into this predicament. But Buffy's tightly drawn face had always brought him back. Forced him to concentrate on keeping up appearances for her. It finally took his suggestion of asking Willow to look into certain aspects of her "illnesses" that allowed Buffy a margin of relaxation. 

When the doctor finally did come in, Buffy silently asked Spike to stay. Which he did. He tried to joke around with her during her physical examination, and was able to distract her to a degree. But when the doctor started in on her history, she'd tensed up again. And the doctor had been slightly bewildered over her extraordinary healing ability. They'd managed to shrug it off as good genes, and the doctor accepted it. 

The appointment had ended with a very candid interview about the myriad possibilities the couples still faced. And Buffy had been ready to deal with it. What had nearly broken her was when the doctor pulled out brochures about unnatural child conception and adoption. Invasive procedures she could handle for some reason. But seeing the bold type print of the adoption brochure had hit her hard. She didn't want somebody else's child. Though she had the utmost respect for people who did adopt, it was not something she felt she was ready for yet. Not did Spike seem to be. They presented to the doctor a united front that silently spoke of their determination to exhaust every avenue of possibility before looking at alternate ways. 

What the doctor didn't realize was that thanks to their belief in the esoteric world that lay beyond the physical, they were very determined to know exactly what was wrong with Buffy. So the doctor had ended their appointment, trying to be upbeat and promising test results within the week. With that behind them, Spike immediately gave in to Buffy's request to call in the big guns, Willow. 

She arrived at the house not long after the couple did. Spike answered the door and gifted her with a rare, appreciative smile and even a little hug. Willow could read the emotion rolling off both of them without even lifting a little pinky of magic. Of course, part of that came from years of knowing both of them. And as empathetic as she could be, knew that her best friend needed nothing more than a good sob session. She signaled unobtrusively to Spike who immediately left the vicinity. Willow had the brief impression that Spike needed this as much as Buffy did. She almost called him back, but something in the stiffness of his posture prevented her. 

_'Stupid macho gene kicking in,'_ she thought to herself. Dismissing the thought with a sigh, she turned to her friend. "So on a scale of one to ten, how bad was it?" she asked gently, rubbing Buffy's shoulder soothingly. 

"Oh God Wills," Buffy moaned, resting her forehead in one hand. "I'd have to say that was a fifty billion, at least."

"That bad?"

"It would have been worse if Spike hadn't been there," she sniffled. Willow gave her a tentative smile and reached for a tissue from her purse. Buffy took it and dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. 

"I'm glad he was," was all the witch offered. 

"Me too," Buffy nodded. 

"How long until you get the results?" she inquired hesitantly. It was an important thing to know. With the Slayer, the longer something took, the more time the petite blonde had to get herself worked up about it. The woman was not known for her patience. 

"A week," Buffy grunted. 

"Well, that's not so long," Willow murmured. Buffy fixed her with an unamused glare. "I'm just saying," Willow defended herself, her hands held up pleadingly. "Compared to how things used to be, that's actually fast."

"I guess." There was a long silent moment. Then Buffy reached for her own bag, filled with the literature the doctor had asked them to look over. "Actually Willow, I was wondering if you could do us a favor?"

"Anything," the redhead chirped, glad to be of use instead of just sitting on the sideline of a battle that wasn't hers. She tilted her head to the side. "Just as long as it doesn't include me cursing the meanie doctor. So can't do that…anymore." Her objective was achieved when Buffy let out a small gurgle of laughter. 

"Can we save that for if we don't like the test results?" she asked, semi-serious. 

"I'll think about it," Willow teased. She took the folded slips of paper her friend held out to her, barely glancing at them. 

"Dr. Ferguson said that there were… lots of reasons," Buffy began hesitantly. She glanced away, to look out the window on the other side of the living room. "A-and I was thinking, maybe it's not physical. I mean, not earthly, you know?"

"Not earthly as in magical sorta stuff?" Willow clarified. Her friend nodded slowly. 

"So much has happened to me," Buffy mused. "And beyond the immediate effect of things, did we ever look into any other side effects of the magical stuff we did?"

"Oh, wow," Willow breathed, understanding immediately. "Some stuff we did, I know. But sure, I can check out the rest. Side effects of spells, poisons, everything."

"Thanks Will," Buffy breathed out softly. The redhead halted and tried to smile encouragingly. But the problem, when taken from all sides now, it was getting a little larger than Willow liked problems to be. Nervously, she shuffled through the medical literature her friend had handed her. She paused at one and sighed heavily. She slid it out and set it on the coffee table. 

"I don't think I'll need that one," she grimaced. Buffy glanced at it as well. Quickly the blonde snatched it up, crumpling the slick material in her hands. 

"Nope," Buffy agreed testily. "Adoption won't be an issue."

"Right," Willow agreed hastily. "That's a good attitude Buff. We'll find out what's wrong and before you know it, you'll have a baby all your own." Buffy swallowed once, trying to keep the tears back again.

"Yeah, I will," she intoned. She dropped the balled up material on the floor beside her, nudging it with her foot out of sight. She turned back to her friend, desperate for a distraction. "So tell me, how are you doing?"

Willow read her intention and went along with it. She sighed again, knowing the perfect painful topic to keep her friend's mind from wandering too drastically. "Well, it's been tough since Kennedy left. But I'm hanging in there."

***** 

All through the rest of the evening, even after she'd thrown the crumpled up paper away, adoption had been on Buffy's mind. It wasn't so much thought of as something she could do, but more why the doctor had presented them with that information. He hadn't even included anything about in vitro fertilization or anything like that. Just what could be wrong with her and viable options if they couldn't fix her. Hence the adoption pamphlet. She worried over and over again that perhaps the doctor knew more than he was letting on. Was he perhaps trying to tell them that their situation was hopeless? That she shouldn't even be bothering with tests? That adoption was the only way to ever have a child? That he was only going through the tests as a formality? She tried to reassure herself that the doctor just wanted them to be prepared in case that was the final verdict. But Buffy thought it callous of him to do so at this point. Which again led to the belief that the doctor knew far more than he was telling. Which made sense to her. What the hell was the point of going to school all those extra years if he didn't learn something beyond what a high school education could provide? 

So granted, when she finally took herself off to bed, she wasn't in the best of moods. Spike remained behind downstairs to say goodnight to Dawn, before locking up and coming to bed himself. He puttered about the room until he was ready to lie down. Mostly it was mentally preparing himself to break through the walls she had resurrected around her emotions. More than anything, he needed to be let in. Just to slip in and let her know that he was there for her. 

He lifted up the cover and slid into the warm bed. He adjusted the cover over himself, leaving plenty for Buffy, smiling sadly at what a hog cover she could be at times. Before, he hadn't minded. When your body is always room temperature, blankets didn't matter so much. But these days, things fluctuated. Spike snapped off the bedside lamp and rolled over to wrap his arms around her lovingly, as he always did. It was on of their favorite positions to sleep in. Her wrapped in his embrace where he knew that she was willingly. For Buffy, to have Spike physically and metaphorically at her back, protecting her. 

But tonight, he was met with a cold shoulder. As soon as he arms slipped under the cover to wrap protectively around her waist, she tensed up and rolled slightly away from him. Unperturbed, he scooted a little closer. And again she moved away. He grinned wryly at her little game until she was nearly at the edge of the bed. 

"Keep that up pet and you're going to fall right off," he teased. 

"Don't Spike," she warned softly. 

"Don't what, luv?" he asked softly. Don't tease? Don't hug her? Don't push her off the bed? Her mood had been increasingly more difficult to deal with as the evening wore on. But Spike was determined to try. 

"Just don't."

He sighed heavily, moving to lie on his back; one arm still stretched towards her. "Do I at least get a good night kiss?" he asked hopefully. Rare were the times that she refused him that. But she did tonight. 

"Why bother?" she asked softly, regretfully. Spike caught the tone and immediately sat up. He grasped her elbow and gently forced her to roll over and face him. There were no tears present on her face, but he could see the telltale track where she hadn't quite washed them all away. 

"Why bother with what?" he demanded, a little more harshly than he meant to. Buffy sighed and looked away. He repeated his question. 

"Why bother with any of it?" she shrugged, unsure as to what she was feeling, definitely unable to explain. 

"Any of what?" he demanded, still trying to figure out what she was referring to. 

"This!" Buffy gestured wildly, taking in the bed, them, the whole room at large. It finally dawned on Spike what exactly she was referring to. Sex. 

"Luv," he began soothingly, "I just want to give you a hug. If you don't want to do anythin' else, we don't have to."

"Right," she huffed out. "What would be the point?" 

Spike had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "The point, Buffy, would be that we love each other. We don't need any other reason." He was met with silence. A shiver of dread ran through him. "We do love each other, don't we?" He couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice. This moment was every nightmare for the past year seeming to come true. Buffy denying her love for him. 

She stared at him for a while, thinking how to frame her answer. She finally gave up. "I do love you Spike. I'm… I'm just not sure it's worth it anymore."

"What?" he was devastated when her words finally coalesced in his mind. Doubts. She was having doubts. "Of course it's worth it," he assured her hastily. "We love each other…" he was almost whining in his assertion to convince her. 

"Love isn't everything Spike," she told him softly. She turned away, unable to watch the cracking of his heart, so heartbreakingly real in his eyes. But Spike wasn't one to give up in defeat so easily. He rose to his knees, facing her. He grabbed her arms and yanked her around. 

"Don't do this Buffy!" he warned gruffly. "Don't shut me out. We'll get through this."

"What if we don't?" she demanded hotly. "What if when all is said and done, I can't have kids? Where will that leave us?"

"We'll deal with it," he ground out through clenched teeth. 

"I don't know that I want to," Buffy shook her head, cringing back a little as fury began to whip through her lover. He threw her back, away from him, more to keep from inadvertently hurting her in his anger than any other reason. 

"Don't!" he yelled. He shook his head, bewildered. "I can't! I can't do this now."

"Spike," Buffy murmured softly from where she landed against the pillows. She sat up. "We have to talk about this."

"No!" he yelled even more forcefully. "We don't! I can't! I'm sorry pet, but in case you haven't noticed, I have just as many doubts as you do. Do you think that I'm not scared we'll never have kids? Do you think I'm not worried about what this means for us? You were the one that bloody well wanted kids. And now that we can't, you just bloody well toss me aside? Like god damned garbage!"

"I'm not tossing you aside Spike," Buffy cried out. 

"That's what it bloody well feels like," he growled. She moved a little closer and he leapt from the bed. "Don't!"

"Spike please," Buffy implored, one hand stretched out to him. "I'm sorry. I said this all wrong." She stopped abruptly as she watched him stalk to the dresser and yank out some clothes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leavin'," he snarled as he yanked on a pair of jeans. "I can't be around you right now."

"No Spike," she pleaded. "Don't go. We can talk about this."

"Apparently there's nothin' to talk about anymore," he grunted, pulling on a shirt. Without another word, he spun about and almost ran from the room. Buffy watched in stunned silence until her body finally reacted to her racing mind. She scrambled from the bed and ran down the stairs after him, calling his name. But it was too late and he was already out the door. He never looked back to see his fiancée collapsed inside the doorframe, sobbing as if the world had come to an end. 

***** 

It took Spike over three hours of aimless driving before he was able to calm down enough to return home. He'd been able to think semi-rationally about what their fight truly meant. Not the words hastily thrown out at one another. But the underlying cause of it. Fear. Buffy was afraid of the future. And so was he. But being the pragmatic being he was, he knew they had no choice but to live it. And that meant going back. Letting her know these things. Actually, he'd figured that out within the first fifteen minutes after he'd left the house. The rest of the time was spent shoring himself up for the possibility of another fight. He'd sworn to himself that he would be there for Buffy, no matter what happened. It was time to keep that promise. But before that, he had to make sure that he was ready to face the onslaught of whatever defenses she might build up. 

As soon as he swung the door open, he could hear her crying. He let the door drift shut, locking it again absentmindedly. He took the stairs two at a time, eager to calm her and soothe her. Reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere, despite what monkey wrenches she threw at him. He paused in the door of their bedroom and softly cleared his throat. She looked miserable, lying on their bed, her arms wrapped around his pillow, crying an endless river of tears. 

"Buffy," he spoke softly, belatedly wondering how much of their earlier fight Dawn had heard. And now what the teen must be trying to block out. His lover's head lifted up and her eyes widened in surprise. She launched herself from the bed and into his arms in the blink of an eye. She was grasping at his arms as if he were the only life preserver left on earth and the second flood had come. "Hey now," he whispered into her hair, breathing in her unique scent. He needed soothing just as much as she did. 

"You left me," she cried, her voice muffled by his chest as she burrowed in. "You promised you wouldn't. But you left me."

"I didn't leave you," he hastened to assure her. "I just needed time to think."

"You left me!" she asserted. She pulled back from him, the tears still streaming haphazardly down her face. "God Spike! You can yell, scream, throw things, beat me, break things. I don't care! Just don't ever leave me!" He stiffened at her words. Of all the things he had imagined, never once had her feelings about this occurred to him. He grabbed her arms and set her away from him so he could look her straight in the eyes. 

"No Buffy!" he growled, thoroughly pained by this admission of hers. "We're not goin' back there." She stared up at him, confused. "We did that once. Beat the livin' crap outta each other. We're not ever gonna do that again." Slowly she nodded her head. "You understand me?" he demanded. Needing to know that they weren't going to backslide into the abusive maelstrom that had once been theirs. He watched her carefully, as she seemed to calm somewhat. 

"You're right," she gulped. "But I need you right now. Please?" Spike swallowed heavily and nodded, knowing that she needed affirmation that things hadn't been screwed up royally. That she was still alive, despite the weight of all the burdens recently dumped on her. So he let her take control. 

Buffy pushed his coat off his arms, not caring where it dropped. She pulled the T-shirt from him, letting it fall as well. Her nimble fingers yanked open the fastening of his jeans. In her haste, she never noticed the strange look of resignation on his face. Never realized that he didn't really want this. That he was just going along with her for her needs her comfort. He stepped out of the pants and kicked them aside as Buffy pulled off her nightshirt and threw it on the small pile of clothes. 

Urgently, she framed his face with her hands, pulling his lips down to meet hers. He wasn't resisting her, but she barely noticed that his entire heart wasn't in it. She continued to nip at his lips as she guided his arms around her. She shivered as his hands did trail up and down her back, trying to soothe her. But she didn't want that right now. Her own hands returned to his shoulders, desperate to drag him into her. Her nails dug into his flesh, as her kisses became more aggressive. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit hard enough to draw blood. He winced slightly but made no protest. 

Buffy let her hand drift down, fluttering over his chest then abdomen until it came to rest above his slight erection. She let loose his lip as he continued to stroke her back. Her hand curled around him, his body reacting as it normally did to hers. He groaned as she roughly yanked at him, forcing him to full attention. She continued to stroke, up and down, twisting a little to allow some extra friction to excite him. She ignored his wince. All that mattered was the feeling she needed to attain. To feel alive again. Her mind regressed to the point of memories that he had done this for her before, he could do it again. 

Spike sighed in relief as she let him go, only to immediately drag him towards the bed. She pushed him down and he obediently scooted up to where he was comfortable, reclining against the still wet pillow. But he didn't allow himself to be aware of his discomfort. He couldn't afford to right now. He was slightly on edge, tense about what she wanted from him. He knew she was recoiling from the tenderness they shared and was slightly at a loss how to deal with this development. 

Buffy followed, crawling up his body slowly. She stopped every few movements, to lick at his exposed skin, to nip at his taut muscles. Still he spoke no words. She dragged herself up to position herself, knees on either side of his chest. She reached behind herself to grasp his dick, moving it to her pleasure. Closing her eyes, she sank down onto him, gasping at the slight pain of the movement. Her eyes flew open as skin rasped against skin. Spike was watching her benignly, knowing already what she was suddenly, physically made aware of. She wasn't ready for this. She swallowed heavily. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the feel of his heaviness filling her. She'd just forgotten that the violence was no longer a factor in their relationship. 

Spike could see her silent capitulation to him. She knew now physically and emotionally that no matter how painful things were, this was no longer the answer. He opened his arms to her and she collapsed onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as she shuddered, slightly repulsed at herself. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his skin, unable to meet his eyes. 

"It's okay luv," he soothed, one hand moving up to run through her silky hair. 

"Do you hate me?"

Spike grinned crookedly at the little girl voice she used, desperately needing reassurance. He flexed his hips slightly, causing her to gasp in surprise. "Never," he murmured. Buffy glanced up at him. She tilted her head up, stretching her neck. He pursed his lips, waiting for her kiss. She brushed her lips against his softly, shivering at the warm breath caressing her skin. Her tongue darted out, lingering over his until he too opened his mouth and allowed her entry. Their tongues dueled with one another a moment before he retreated, allowing her to take control. To take what she wanted from him. 

Buffy brought her hands up to his shoulders, pushing up off him until she was straddling him again, still joined. She smiled down at him, determined now not to hide from him. His hands were resting lightly on her knees. She laid her hands over his and tugged slightly at them. With ease, he rubbed his callused hands over the smooth expanse of her thighs, steadily creeping higher. He was going so slowly, that Buffy felt a shiver of excitement, wonderment about where those hands could end up. 

Spike strained forward as his hands drifted over her hips and continued upward along her ribs. Buffy chuckled at the tickling motion and tried to clamp her arms down to stop his teasing. But Spike pulled free and moved his hands to her back as he sat up. Buffy tilted back, almost losing her balance at his sudden movement, but he caught her. His eyes were shining brightly at her mirth, determined to keep her in the moment. He drew closer, keeping her eyes on him with the hint of pleasure to come. Her lips parted as she anticipated his kiss, but at the last second, he ducked his head to drag his mouth over the pulse point at her neck. Buffy tensed as he nipped at her collarbone and relaxed as he darted his tongue out to soothe the bite. His hands continued to stroke her back as he sucked at the skin covering her petite bones, coming ever closer to her full and heavy breasts. She let her arms rest lightly on his biceps, granting him permission to let his hands wander where they would. And he didn't disappoint. 

One hand slid down her spine until he could cup her thigh, the other hand slid around her ribcage, to rest tauntingly beneath her breast. Buffy relaxed her rigid posture to let her breasts sway temptingly against his chest. Spike swallowed a groan and leaned back a little. He watched as he drew an abstract pattern on her abdomen. He glanced up quickly to see that Buffy was watching as well. He continued to draw invisible things over her skin, moving upwards until his finger was resting on her chest. He paused and grinned up at her. She was straining slightly towards him, waiting for him to continue. She returned his grin with one of her own as her hand fluttered towards his. She grasped his finger and pulled it up to her mouth. Her lips separated and drew it in, her tongue swirling around, coating it with moisture. Her teeth nipped at his fingertip quickly before she pulled it back out and returned it to her breast. 

Spike continued to slowly tease, dragging out the sweet torment as she waited for him to touch her intimately, her skin tingling in anticipation. He finally did, stopping and whirling the finger around the tightened bud, barely touching, making her arch her back again in frustration. He lifted his other hand to her mouth and she repeated her ministrations. Finally, he had her attention completely and fully on them, their bodies. He wasn't about to rush through it. Spike teased her, with light touch, warm breath, wet fingers until her hips began to move of their own accord. Buffy groaned when he broke off and stilled her hips with strong hands. "Not yet," he whispered. She nodded, unable to trust her voice. He kept her body locked against his, unable to move, unable to pull away. 

Spike glanced up at her eyes, loving the emotion contained within, the desire flashing through her. He peppered kisses along her jaw, moving towards her shell-like ear. His breath was heavy as he exhaled. Buffy turned her head, trying to contain the urge to push him down and stop this torment. But Spike wanted to make love to her, not just satisfy the urges. And she wanted to be made love to, protected and cherished. Slowly, his tongue traced the edge of her sensitized skin. 

Buffy could barely restrain herself, but figured she was a willing participant and erotic torture could be a two way street. She started slowly, bring one hand up to caress the slight curls that met the nape of his neck. Her fingers massaged gently before moving upward, tangling in his platinum locks. She drew her nails lightly around his scalp as her other hand stole up his chest. She quickly found his erect nipple, flicked it once, and then mimicked his teasing circles around the turgid flesh. Spike groaned but made no move to stop her. She pulled away from his tongue at her ear, caressing the stretched skin of his neck with moistened lips, down to his shoulder. She sucked at the juncture of his throat and shoulder, raising enough blood to leave a small bruise. Spike groaned and flexed his hips again. Buffy giggled and clamped her thighs against his hips, restricting movement. 

"Nuh uh," she whispered. 

"Cor, have pity," he mumbled, trying to move his hips again. 

"Fair's fair," she chuckled. His head tipped back as he swallowed heavily. Buffy let her legs loosen, but before he could react, had clenched her inner muscles as she raised herself up, dragging slowly, making him feel every inch of delicious loss. He mumbled a strangled curse and returned his hands to her hips to stop her from slipping completely free. She stopped with just the tip still in her. She watched her lover, seeing the exquisite pain of her teasing flow through him. With gently hands, she pushed him back until he was reclining on the bed. He stared up at her, waiting for her to continue. 

Buffy slid slowly back down, muscles still clenched, dragging another softly murmured curse from him. She leaned forward; bracing her hands on his chest as she rocked her hips forward, eyes' closing briefly at the sheer pleasure that was shuddering through them both. Spike's hands moved to her hips, encouraging her to keep moving, slowly, softly, letting it play out on it's own. Buffy inhaled deeply, moving gently but still with enough motion to entice him. The pressure began to build slowly in her lower regions as she continued. An orgasm began to build within her, tendrils of flame coiling in the pit of her stomach, but she slowed and stopped, bringing herself upright. She tensed again, wanting to draw it out. Spike watched her, understanding. But suddenly teasing, playing no longer mattered. She needed him to fulfill her, complete her. She plunged down, concentrating fully on his heaviness within her. 

Spike gasped at the sensations sweeping over them, thrusting up to meet her time and again. They were both breathing heavily, somehow their hands intertwining as they moved towards a common goal. Spike pulled her down to his chest again, desperate to kiss her as he felt his orgasm sweeping through his body. He let loose her hands and moved to her hips, helping her. He was so tempted to just roll them over and go caveman on her, but knew she needed the control. He snarled softly in her ear and gasped once more as he felt her inner walls begin to shudder around him. His fingers tightened painfully into her hips as he felt the ferocity of the world bursting around them. He nearly blacked out as he thrust into her one final time, his seed flowing into her warm receptacle. 

Buffy felt her orgasm upon her and rode the wave it brought, her entire body shuddering as it gave in to the moment. Spike tensed beneath her, whispering her name, over and over. She was incapable of speech as her body went boneless, melting into the burning inferno that she had become. It was forever, it was intense, and it was purity itself. 

***** 

"Tell me about him," Spike whispered in her ear, as they lay spooned together in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Buffy didn't have to ask whom he meant.

"He's beautiful," she smiled sadly. "He's got these big eyes that are so trusting. He looks up at you and you just feel that he loves you already. That no matter what happens, he'll believe in you and trust you. And you wanna do everything you can to never lose that look in his eyes."

"We will," he assured her gently, tightening his hold. Buffy ran a finger over the corded muscles holding her waist. She continued to run her fingers over him as they drifted off to slumber.

***** 

She was dreaming again. But it was so wonderful to be back in that place that Buffy floated along with it. Knowing what was ahead, she fairly ran through the meadow, the trees, to that little room where her heart lay awaiting. The sun beat down warm on her skin, filling her with its reassuring presence. Her feet flew over the distance until the room came into sight. Buffy stopped, gasping slightly at her exertion. She laughingly composed herself, then muttered under her breath about how her baby wouldn't care if her hair were mussed. She slid into the sanctuary, the grass carpeting beneath her giving way to the hardened floor. She heard no movement within and wondered if she finally caught her little guy off guard. 

She crept towards the cradle, wanting him to keep sleeping if he was. She could wait to hold him again. Looking upon his little face was nearly as good. But just as she peered over the edge of the cradle, things went dark. She glanced up, confused. This had never happened before here. She glanced out the window, seeing that the sun had suddenly disappeared from the sky. A small breeze seemed to have picked up, blowing through the room, yet the woods were strangely undisturbed. Buffy looked up into the sky, noticing that a full moon was hanging in the sky, tinged orange. Its presence was enough to give light, but couldn't keep the shadows from playing over the room.

Buffy turned her attention back to the cradle, wondering what her little guy thought of all this. But she could see nothing beyond the pile of blankets resting tauntingly among the bed. Her hand stole down without thought to push the blankets aside as panic began to rise in her chest. "Where is he?" she murmured. Her hand found nothing as her eyes continued to search. Finally, in terror, she yanked the blankets free. But there was only an empty cradle. A crack of thunder sounded overhead and Buffy trembled. The wind picked up and Buffy reactively braced herself against it. But all her senses were searching for him. 

The light from the moon paled drastically as dark clouds swept before it, hiding it from her sight. Denying what her hands and eyes were telling her, Buffy continued to search. But she came up empty. It was then that she noticed the suddenness of light filling the room. It was coming from behind her. Buffy tensed and whirled around, ready to face whatever new threat this might be. The light blinded her momentarily, pulsing through her. An odd, familiar feeling. Her hands flew up to ward off the brilliance surrounding her, her mind fleetingly warning her that blinding light was never good. 

__

'Buffy,' an ephemeral voice resounded in her head and she slowly lowered her hands. The brilliant, searing illumination seemed to dim slightly, until Buffy could finally make out what was behind the light. 

"Mommy?" she whispered, shocked as Joyce's form flowed towards her, one hand outstretched in loving gesture. She recoiled back from the hand and winced as Joyce's face fell. Her mother's hand dropped to her side. She studied her daughter, taking in the years of wear on her pale face. Buffy swallowed heavily, dropping her gaze guiltily to her feet. She wanted to believe that it was Joyce. But never before had her mother appeared before her in her dreams in this manner. She tried again. "Is it you Mom?"

_'It's me Buffy,'_ the figure informed her in a slightly amused tone. She knew exactly what her daughter was thinking. _'Why have you returned here?'_ What Buffy was not aware of was that Joyce didn't have much time. 

"T-the baby," Buffy stammered, gesturing behind her. "I'm here to see the baby." She looked up, flinching at the sadness in her mother's eyes. "I want to see my baby Mom. Where is he?"

_'He's not your baby Buffy,'_ her mother sighed softly. _'He never was.'_

Buffy recoiled in shock, stunned that her mother would blurt out such a hurtful lie. "Yes he is. I remember him. From Heaven."

_'Do you really?'_ her mother asked, her gaze penetrating right to the bottom of her soul. _'I don't think you do.'_

"I do, I do!" Buffy yelled, hurt that her mother was trying to take this away from her. "I remember. I was in Heaven and he's here, waiting for me. Spike and I are going to have a baby. Him. He's just waiting for us to get pregnant and then he'll be with us!" she yelled. "I remember!"

_'Yes,'_ her mother agreed softly. _'You were in Heaven. He was in Heaven. But he's not your baby Buffy. Remember.'_ Buffy stared at her mother as the older woman drew closer. Her hand lifted up to caress her daughter's cheek. Buffy leaned into the caress, gasping suddenly as memory overtook her. 

_She had been so tired. But it, life was done. She drifted, happily in the void. But things were always shifting, changing around her. She floated along with it, content to just rest. But eventually as time passed and she wasn't sure how she knew it, but she did, she came to the meadow. Her eyes grew thoughtful as she watched it take form before her. Curious, she moved herself forward; no longer needing whatever it was that had propelled her before. Time really had no meaning here, but she felt the need to hurry along. Events were in motion and all around her were readying for momentous occasions about to arise. She came, her first time to the little room in the glade. Light suffused her as she stole along to the cradle, gently rocking in the breeze. She peered inside; smiling in delight at the little soul that peered up at her. _

'**Beautiful, is he not?'** a booming voice surrounded her, making her shiver deep inside. 

'He is,' she agreed softly. All babies were beautiful in one form or another. 

'**But yet he cannot be,'** the voice continued. Buffy glanced up, confused. But there was nothing to focus on. No body to attach the voice to. So she looked down at the child again, her voice unconsciously soothing him as he wriggled about in his confinement. 

'Why not?' she asked absently, her fingers reaching to tickle his tummy. He cooed at her, blowing tiny spit bubbles up at her. 

'**This little one lacks the most important of all things,**' the voice sighed, as if greatly disheartened by the news. Buffy waited strangely patient. After all, she had finally learned here that things would happen of their own accord, in their own time. **'The soul is the essence of the heart. And this little one has no soul to call his own.'**

'Why not?' Buffy asked, confused. It was unimaginable to her. How could such a perfect little being not be complete? 

**'The soul is crafted from love. It grows as that love is spread among others. The first stirring of soul comes from the love of Heaven and the love a parent carries in his or her soul for the life that grows within. But this little one knows not the love of either parent yet. There is only so much love that Heaven can give him to sustain him where he is now.'** Buffy nodded. Some of it she instinctively understood. But the other made no sense at all. 

'What can we do?' she demanded sweetly, her eyes still focused on the squirming bundle, kicking at the sheets covering him. 

**'This child is important. His coming is necessary. But without a soul of his own, we will lose him and any others we hope to affect. What can we do?'**

Buffy glanced up, her eyes unfocused. 'Everything we can,' she decided suddenly. 'If he's needed…' she sighed heavily. She glanced around, wondering why the voice would ask her for her ideas. But it came to her suddenly, as if the voice were just waiting for her to realize what needed to be done. 'He can have my soul.' She was stunned as the voice began to laugh. 

**'A noble sacrifice Slayer,'** it continued to chuckle, eventually dying down. **'If you make it willingly, we will allow it. But be mindful, we could not take your entire soul. For what would that leave you? No, we may take a little of the Warrior Soul within you, craft it, and build it for his purpose. Will you allow this?'**

Buffy didn't need to be asked again. She'd already made the choice. It pained her heart to think that this little life would never know the pleasure one day of Heaven as she did. For if he had no soul, he would drift forever in the dark void. 'Do it!' she commanded of the voice.

'**It is done!'**

Buffy's eyes flew open, beholding her mother's frowning countenance. She shook her head slowly, still denying the truth before her. Tears flowed, unchecked down her cheeks. "No! No, he's my baby Mommy," she continued to deny, even as the truth overwhelmed him. "I know him. I know just what he'll be like when he grows up. How he'll look. How he'll talk. The things he likes…"

_'Yes, you do, don't you?'_ Joyce pressed in on her. Buffy's head shot up, her eyes wide as she realized that she had known all along. 

"Oh my God!" she breathed. "Connor!"


	19. The Memory Slides

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated NC-17 

Chapter Nineteen

The Memory Slides

Buffy awoke with a gasp. Her dream, the dream that had been sustaining her these past few years with hope, a future, had been taken from her. It had all been a lie. Her eyes fluttered shut as she squeezed back the tears threatening to spill. She carefully covered her mouth with her the hand not resting on Spike's hand. She dared not tense up, knowing after their last emotional upheaval, he'd be more sensitive to her, physically. It had happened to them before. When problems so insurmountable had kept them from slumber, the other usually knew. But she didn't want to get back into it with Spike tonight, or rather this morning. They'd already said too much. Talking wouldn't help now. And despite what Spike had said earlier, Buffy was still carrying some guilt over her inability to conceive. Until they figured it out, she always would. 

But having this dream shattered, lying broken at her feet was too exhausting. And in typical irrational fashion, Buffy slid from the bed, moving carefully to assure that Spike wouldn't wake. He grunted lowly, but pulled the hand that she'd been caressing in her sleep to rest on his abdomen and continued to sleep. Buffy bit back a sigh and slipped on her thick robe. She hastily shoved her feet into the slippers peeking out from under the dust ruffle. She crept from the room and paused at the door next to her own. Her hand hovered over the doorknob before reason kicked in, informing her that a breakdown in the room next to her sleeping fiancé was almost as bad as a breakdown in the same room. With a lingering caress on the solid wood, she continued down to the steps, easily avoiding the slightly squeaky boards that existed. 

The house was cool in the pre-dawn moments as a breeze continued to blow in from the ocean, making it's way through the neighborhood to sweep up those tiny remnants of civilized life from where it was scattered. Buffy roamed through the main floor, finding nothing to distract her, until she began to worry that she might disrupt Dawn with her treading pace in the living room. After all, she was right above Dawn's room. But the effort of returning to her room and dressing to leave the house was a bit extreme in her mind. The sun was almost up; there would be nothing to distract her out there either. But as Buffy slid along the linoleum in the kitchen, she realized that there was too little room for her to maneuver in. So she finally settled on a compromise and slipped out the French doors of the living room. She followed the narrow wooden plank walkway to the deck in the back. The solid plastic deck chairs were slightly damp to the touch, again courtesy of the ocean breeze. 

Buffy shivered slightly as she sat, knowing it was from the aftermath of her world being topsy-turvy yet again. But she stubbornly brushed it off, attributing it to the dew surrounding her. She pulled her feet up under her, instinctively huddling in on herself to conserve what little body heat she had left. Her head drifted to the right, trying to find comfort from the unyielding man made product. She stared out at the backyard, biting her lip. Would it ever be more than just the grass and the tree, full of sunlight that had no more use than to keep things growing? Would it ever be full of laughter, birthday parties, toys, a swing set? Her and Spike rolling around the ground, playing with their child?

Buffy swallowed heavily, wanting to curse. This train of thought was sure to drive her to madness. And she'd already been there. It wasn't a pretty picture. Remembering that time, when a demon had infected her, making her believe that her entire life was a lie and that in "reality" she was in a mental institution, having created a superhero persona to compensate for something missing in her life. It was a strange theory. So much of her life having been based on fiction. Untruths. No matter how you looked at it, a lot of her life was a lie in and of itself. The most glaringly obvious was Dawn. She had no sister. Just as she had no child. Buffy squirmed a little. _'At least I never held a baby in my arm, comforted it when it got scared, told it I loved…'_ but she had. For all that they were dreams; they were in fact representations of the time she had spent in Heaven. Where she did in fact hold Connor in her arms, telling him that she loved him. And every dream after that, she'd held him and said those words, told him of her life. Shared a part of herself with him that she kept back from the majority of the world. 

With a sour taste in her mouth, her thoughts finally centered on Connor. It was almost laughable now. She should have known. She did know. The knowledge was planted in her so deeply that it took concentrated thought to bring it forth. She knew the truth about Connor. How Darla had staked herself to give birth to him. How Angel had loved him, cared for him, until Holtz had stolen him away. She even had what Angel did not. Knowledge of Connor's life when he became Steven in Quor-toth. And of when he returned, seventeen, angry and looking to destroy what had caused his pain in the first place. Buffy's face screwed up in distaste as the memory of Connor with Cordelia flitted through her mind. 

_'If seeing it in your head is bad, think about poor Cordy,'_ Buffy chastised herself. _'She actually had to live it.'_ She sat up a little straighter. Did she really just think that? She felt sorry for Cordelia? _'Well it's not like she chose to come back to earth with her body inhabited by an evil demon bent on ruling the known world in it's gory obsession.'_ Buffy snickered softly at herself. Getting a handle on maturity was such a strange path sometimes. But it helped. Just a little, knowing that other people's lives were just as screwed up as hers. But then her mind insistently led her back to Connor. And to how she knew these things. All the times that she had dreamt of him with her in Heaven, they'd been sharing their lives. Bonding with one another. Her eyes widened as she realized that that was how Connor had known about Dawn's new job. She had told him, the baby version that she carried with her in that state of deepening awareness in her dreams.

She knew that it was this demon inhabiting Cordy that led to Angel's decision to give up his son. It was strange how all those memories and feelings existed in her, yet the memories also allowed for his made-up life as well. She clearly had memories of his life, as he knew it now. His parents, his sister, meeting Alyssa. It was only recently that things had begun to fade out, to slide away. Buffy mused on the strangeness of containing the two lives. Almost as if Connor were two separate people with one life snuffed out at the tender age. In a way, Connor/ Steven had died and paved a way for this new Connor. Buffy could not begrudge him the new memories. It was something she herself had yearned for, the comfort of a home full of family and normalcy. Her eyes widened as she realized what Angel had given up for his son. He had found a way to fulfill his son's greatest wish at cost to himself. And when he was in the depth of despair, as much as she didn't like to admit it, he had been, he'd been saved. Max had saved him. And now he had Eva to show for it. A soft smile lit her face. _'Here's my despair. Someone wanna pull me up?'_

***** 

Spike woke slowly; blinking in the face of the sunlight that crept into the eastern facing window of their room. The slight chill he felt on his backside told him that Buffy had already risen. And given the previous evening's mood, he wasted no time in rising as well. He pulled a pair of jeans from the dresser and yanked them on. He left the room, not bothering to button them up yet as he did. He made a quick pit stop in the bathroom before heading downstairs. His cursory glance about the lower rooms showed nothing, and it was only the glint of the sun reflecting off her gloriously bright hair that attracted his attention to the kitchen window. He smiled, grateful that she was still there. But he should have known better. Buffy was not one to run away physically in most cases, unless forced to. Mentally maybe. She could drown in denial city when she wanted to. He wondered if the thought had entered into her mind at any point recently. And then her harsh words about them getting married replayed themselves in his mind. Okay, so that was an option he needed to be aware of. On a purely intelligent level, he realized that it was a reaction to what was happening in their life. It was not a reflection of what she felt, or did not feel for him. 

That was the thought that he kept foremost in his mind as he set the coffeepot to percolate. He glanced at her often, wondering how he should approach her. Many tacks were thought over and then discarded. He really didn't need to plot how to give her a kiss, he decided. He just needed to go out and do it. But there was a little hesitation on his part. He, like Buffy had no intention of continuing their little scene from the evening before. They needed time to work through the issues they still had before attacking them head on. So he did what he did for the simple fact that it was a necessary part of their day. He made breakfast. 

It was the smell of the coffee that brought Buffy out of her stupor. She rubbed at her eyes, then stretched, her feet sweeping out to catch at the rays peeping around the houses. She sniffed again, then turned in the chair. The smell was definitely coming from their house. She watched for a moment until she saw Spike's face peek out at her from the kitchen window. He smiled hesitantly at her and she let her own smile answer him. The smile on his face grew to a grin and he held up a mug. She nodded and he disappeared from sight. A moment later, she heard the French door slide open and then shut and his bare feet made their way to her. As he came around the corner, her eyes lit up as her stomach rumbled, taking in the smell that now accompanied the strong flavor of the Columbia roast he'd prepared. Quickly, Buffy dragged the small plastic table that matched the chairs closer to her. She was about to get up and grab another chair for him to sit in, but he managed to set the tray down and catch her before she could go far. 

"Mornin' luv," he whispered. 

"Good morning," she whispered back. The strange lull upon them was too sweet to be broken by loud noises. And feeling his arms so surely around her prompted her to stay. Spike dropped his head and brushed a light kiss across the corner of her mouth. Buffy pulled back slowly and nudged him towards the chair she'd been resting in. His look of surprise made her grin, even more so when she arranged herself in his lap, swinging her legs over the arm of the chair. She pulled the tray he'd prepared a little closer and grabbed both mugs present. He took his from her as he settled an arm around her waist. She held her mug between her hands for a moment, letting the heat soothe her and then took a sip. She grimaced as the heat burned down her throat. Spike set his cup back on the table, his free hand moving to pull the now gaping robe around her legs. 

"Should've brought a blanket out with me, I suppose," he murmured. 

"I'm fine," she shrugged, snuggling into his still warm body. "Sun's up. It'll warm up out here soon."

"Well eat up," he instructed. "That'll help."

"Ooh," she grinned, taking in the food. "Rolls, bacon, strawberries even. When did we get strawberries?"

"Oh gee," he smirked. "Would that have been when we were at the grocery store, buying food?"

"Oh shut up," she giggled, reaching for one. "I forgot, is all."

"Well don't hog them," Spike chuckled, reaching for one himself, only to have his hand lightly smacked back. "If you do, I don't think this chair will hold."

"Are you implying that I'm fat?" Buffy gasped good-naturedly. Spike just raised a solitary eyebrow. "It's not me, you know. It's that super ego of yours that's putting strain on this thing."

"You love my ego and you know it," he teased. Buffy rolled her eyes, then tilted her head, as if to think it over. 

"Yup, that I do," she said at last. And then as he laughed even more, shoved a small strawberry into his mouth. The laughter broke off suddenly as he was forced to chew or choke. It was followed by a lingering kiss. 

Over breakfast and coffee, the pair took the much-needed opportunity to bond again with one another. Both determined to let nothing of the previous days interfere. They stayed away from hurtful topics, trying and succeeding in reaffirming their need for one another beyond the sexual capacity. For once, it wasn't difficult. 

It was a happy sight for Dawn, when she finally trudged outside. She'd been living on the edge of the tension for days now. And while it was nothing like the maelstrom of pain her sister and friend dealt with, it was enough to throw her happy little world a-kilter. She leaned against the corner of the house, taking them in, until another yawn broke it's way through to her face. After, she stretched up, arms in the air to her full height. Buffy and Spike looked up from yet another kiss and grinned at her. 

"You know guys," she muttered, blinking rapidly to try and force the remnants of sleep from her eyes, "I don't think that chair is going to hold." Gales of laughter were her only answer.

***** 

Buffy waved to her fiancé, as she was about to enter the mall, heading for work. Since he'd been up early with her and had no intentions of going back to bed, he'd offered her and Dawn rides to school and work. Which they both gratefully accepted. They'd dropped Dawn off first, so she could meet her friends at the coffeehouse before her first class started. Buffy watched a moment until Spike finally pulled away from the curb, wondering idly how he was going to spend his day. But all too quickly, she was caught up in the whirl of customers, books to be put out and her boss' enquiring glances. After the first swirl of early morning shoppers had been dealt with, Janet, the assistant manager asked for Buffy's help sorting out the new magazines that had come in. While Janet sorted them, it was Buffy's job to collect the magazines that they normally held back for their regulars. 

The blonde Slayer had to hold back a laugh as she took up the list and began piling new copies of everything from golfing, to cooking to weaponry. Especially since Angel Investigations seemed to be at the top of the Antique Weaponry list. After she was done that, she'd call to remind the customers that their orders were in. Combined with the recent order of specially ordered, hard to find books that they dealt with, it would be a long morning of being on the phone. 

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," the brunette Seer chirped out the overly familiar tagline of their company. 

"Hey Cordy," Buffy grinned into the receiver. "It's Buffy."

"Oh hi," Cordy had long ago lost the edge to her tone when she spoke to her former high school nemesis. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just calling to let Wes know that his magazine is in," Buffy informed her. She heard the low, aggrieved sigh and chuckled. "Not that kind of magazine!"

"Oh! Well okay," Cordy giggled at her little faux pas. "I'll tell him. I'm sure somebody will be by to pick it up."

"All right," Buffy nodded, even though the other woman couldn't see her. She checked Wes' name on the list. "I'd talk more, but I have a ton of other customers to call."

"Okay then," Cordy didn't sound aggrieved. She was probably busy as well. "I'll let you go. Thanks for calling."

"No problem," Buffy replied and then hung up the phone, already looking to the next number on her list.

And as promised, Cordy did send someone to pick up the magazine. It just wasn't Wes as she'd expected. Angel tried to hide a grin at her surprise when she'd moved to the front counter to help the customer waiting, only to find it was he. 

"Angel!" she squeaked, even though she shouldn't be surprised. He'd always managed to sneak up and do this to her, for all her Vamp detection sense. But then again, he was no longer a Vampire. "What are you doing here?"

"Cordelia ordered me out of the office," he shrugged. "Apparently I was annoying her."

Buffy cocked her head to the side, her eyes twinkling. "Why do I find that not hard to believe?"

"Women," he snorted lightly. "You're all the same."

"Hence the all encompassing title of 'women'," she rolled her eyes at him. He grinned and waved a hand dismissively. 

"So this is where you work?" he mused rhetorically. "No wonder Wes and Giles were over the moon for you."

"Mm-hmm," the blonde nodded as she turned to dig through the small pile of magazines, having realized her friend's purpose. "They were almost happier than I was to be among all these lovely books." She finally found the correct periodical and turned back to ring it up for him. Her hand flew over the computerized till, the action so ingrained that she no longer had to think about it. 

"Well, as long as you like it," Angel nodded. She grinned up at him, then recited the amount due. He dug around in his pocket for his wallet and handed her an appropriate bill. She continued the transaction, handing him back his change and deftly bagging the purchase, adding a complimentary bookmark like they had been instructed to. "Oh hey," Angel snapped his fingers after putting his wallet away. "I hope you don't mind, but Max and I picked up a little something for you while we were away. Kind of a housewarming gift."

"Why would I mind?" Buffy chuckled. "You know me and presents. What is it?" she asked habitually, then grimaced, already knowing his answer. "I know, I know. I have to wait and see."

"Actually, I was going to say that it's a painting," Angel chuckled. "Did you want to stop by the hotel and pick it up?"

"I suppose I could do that," Buffy bit her lip a moment. "Or hey! Why don't you guys bring it over? You could come for dinner one of these nights. See the house and all that jazz. You haven't seen the house, have you?" she asked suspiciously, suddenly remembering that Max and Angel had been in on that particular surprise. 

"That sounds nice," he murmured as he shook his head in the negative to her query, wondering about what he might be getting them all into by agreeing. "I think we're free tonight."

"That would work," Buffy agreed, "seeing how Spike has to work the rest of the week."

"Okay," he tapped one hand lightly on the counter. "I'll have to see about a babysitter, but I think we can manage it."

"Oh don't," Buffy shook her head. "Eva's totally welcome too. In fact, I think Dawn would happily murder you if you didn't bring her." Angel smiled at the thought. "About six-thirty, seven then?"

"Sounds good." He paused a moment. "I'll call if anything changes though." Buffy giggled, knowing how quickly plans could get turned around when dealing with the things they all dealt with popped up unexpectedly. They said goodbye and Buffy moved off to help the next customer. When she had a break, she called Spike to let him know about their guests for the evening.

***** 

Even though she wanted to make a good impression, Buffy knew better than to attempt anything too fancy for dinner. So she fell back on an old standby of her mother's, spaghetti and meatballs. She figured that it would at least be fun for Eva to get messy in. Connor always liked to at that age. She shook that thought from her head as she continued to prepare the meal, directing Spike as he tidied up the living room. He'd been slightly quiet since she'd arrived home. She rightly attributed it to having to spend more than a few minutes at a time with Angel. But she figured that when he got tired of verbally sparring with the other man, he could find relief talking to Max or playing with Eva. And Dawn would be there too to help with the tension. The teen had arrived home from class, relieved that she didn't have to work and amused that Buffy had ensured that they'd have an infant to play with and practice on for the evening. 

The O'Connor's arrived promptly at six-thirty. Spike let them in, backing out of Angel's way as he brought in the large, wrapped package. Buffy had neglected to mention that they were bringing a gift. The larger man set it in the entryway as Max carried their daughter, collapsible playpen and diaper bag in. Spike closed the door behind her, already making funny faces at the little girl. She giggled gleefully and squirmed to be free of her mother's hold. Spike held his arms out as the dark-haired woman gratefully handed her over. Spike carried the girl into the living room while Angel assisted his wife with the playpen, setting it up close to the French doors in an empty corner of the room. Buffy emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a towel. 

"Hey Max, Angel," she greeted softly, tamping down the little surge of sadness at seeing the child in Spike's arms. She moved purposefully towards them, stopping behind her fiancé to play a moment with the girl. Eva smiled widely down at her, from her position over Spike's shoulder. 

"Hey Buffy," Max greeted absently as she carefully upended the diaper bag contents into the playpen. Toys spilled out, along with hygiene paraphernalia. Max deftly scooped up the diapers, wipes and lotion and returned them to the bag. "You might want to put her in there quickly, lest she destroy your home."

"Aw," Dawn cooed, "she's too little to destroy stuff…isn't she?"

"She's the daughter of a transgenic," Max chuckled. "She's nearly walking, she has teeth, intelligence, curiosity and her daddy wrapped around her pinkie. Yeah, I say she could bring the house down around our ears in about a half hour." The group laughed and after a moment Eva laughed as well. Spike set her in the playpen and the tot's attention was turned to the myriad of bright colors surrounding her. 

"So, did you guys want the tour?" Buffy inquired politely. Max and Angel nodded and followed after her and Spike. "Dawn? Could you stir the sauce?"

"Sure thing," her sister called back. They traipsed up the steps but Max paused when she heard the suddenly abandoned child cry out in frustration. Buffy held her hand out. 

"Dawn'll get her," she assured the other woman. And a moment later, they heard her.

"Hey little one," Dawn chirped brightly. "Did they leave you all alone? What'cha got there?"

"Baa!" Eva yelled. Angel grinned. Their daughter was always happy when she had someone to pay attention to her. Placing one hand on the small of his wife's back, he gestured with the other to continue. 

The tour didn't take long. They ended up in the basement as Dawn had given permission for them to invade her space if they so desired. As they made their way back upstairs, Buffy moved to the kitchen and Max followed. "I wasn't sure what Eva could eat, so I made spaghetti," she offered to the brunette. Max shrugged mirthfully.

"So far the little scamp seems to like everything," she grinned. "Except peas. Huh? Go figure." She watched as Buffy added the noodles to the now boiling water, then stirred the homemade sauce once more, making sure that it was set to simmer still. Dawn had already set the table, so all that was left was to wait for the pasta. "Angel won't like it though," Max chuckled at Buffy's sudden concerned glance. "It's his turn to feed her tonight. Eva and tomato sauce…"

"Not a good mix?" Buffy laughed as Max nodded. "He'll just have to deal."

"A woman after my own heart," Max sighed lightly. She'd had her reservations about this evening. She and Buffy hadn't gotten off to a good start. Especially when her head had been filled in by so many versions by different people of what Buffy was like. Naturally Cordy didn't have much good to say about her, but eventually admitted that there was always a competitive rivalry between them. Wes regarded Buffy as a complex tool that he didn't quite figure out how to use during his tenure as her Watcher. But his respect for her grew after he lost his naivete about the world in which they lived. Her father, Giles had been full of praise for the blonde Slayer, but was well aware of the weakness behind the bastion of preternatural strength the woman presented to the world. And Willow, well Willow was the best friend. One who had defended her friend through thick and thin. So Max took the prudent route and discarded the majority of what she'd been told and decided to get to know the other woman herself. So, when Angel had told her about the invitation, she accepted it with very few qualms. Besides, she still had business with Spike. 

They moved into the living room just as Angel was presenting the painting to Spike. "I hope you guys like it. If you don't, well, I'm sure we can find something else."

"What he means is that I picked it out and bought it before he knew and he wasn't sure it was appropriate," Max offered dryly with a smirk. The other couple just looked at them strangely for a moment. And then Spike held it straight while Buffy pulled away the loose gift-wrapping. She stepped back and sighed in appreciation. She'd always thought that Angel had good taste in art and apparently that extended to Max as well. 

"It's gorgeous," she murmured. Dawn nodded her agreement and then moved to hold the painting so that Spike could see it properly. He came around to Buffy's side and gasped audibly as he took in the seascape with the tiny village depicted in the distance. 

"That's…" he muttered, his face screwed up in recognition. 

"Yeah," Angel nodded. "I wasn't sure if you would remember."

"What honey?" Buffy asked, a little worried. She glanced between the two men, as they silently recalled a moment of their mutual former lives. 

"It was in Ireland," Angel finally offered. "We went back there after Spike joined us."

"Oh, bad memories?" Dawn asked, catching on to his unspoken words immediately. Memories from when the foursome of the Order of Aurelius were rampaging.

"Not really," Spike sighed. "Just unexpected." He glanced at Angel and the taller man nodded imperceptibly. Angel was completely ready to take it back if it bothered the couple too much. 

"Well I like it!" Buffy spoke up happily, wrapping an arm around her lover. 

"You do?" Spike and Angel asked together. 

"Yup," she confirmed. She glanced around. "What? Did you think that I would feel threatened by a reminder of a past girlfriend?" she scoffed and the immediate guilt on their faces told her that that was it exactly. "Oh please! Spike and I already worked through that." She paused a moment as an impish impulse took hold. "All except for Tony," she murmured as she wiped a pretend tear away from the corner of her eye. Her other hand pressed up to her throat, as if she were trying to choke back a sob. "That one hurts."

"Tony?" Angel queried suspiciously. He'd never heard of a girl named Tony from Spike's past. But given the nature of his and Spike's relationship for the past century that was hardly surprising. 

"Buffy," Spike growled warningly, yet his tone playful. 

"Who's Tony?" Dawn asked, her eyes wide. She as well had thought she'd known about Spike's past. 

"Tony…well, he broke my heart when he went after Spike," Buffy sighed, holding back the laughter that threatened to erupt. 

"He?" Angel sputtered as Max laughed. Buffy realized at once that Max hadn't jumped to conclusions like Dawn and Angel had. Probably because she had a gender bending name herself. Not that Angel for a guy was any better. 

"Luv," Spike growled again. He ran one hand through his platinum locks as he tried to ignore Angel's slightly disgusted look, but the grin she was trying to hide appealed to him. "It wasn't like that at all luv. You know that Tony and I were just a one-time thing. He could never shake his thing as well as you do! You know that!" Angel continued to sputter, unable to believe what he was hearing. Until he realized that the couple was laughing at him. 

"Okay," he chuckled, able to laugh at himself, all ready to leap to Buffy's defense, even though it was highly inappropriate. He glanced at his wife, relieved to see that she wasn't upset by his instinctive reaction. "I've got to hear this one."

"Me too," Dawn piped up, blushing a little as the full implication of the male name settled on her. Buffy giggled once more and squirmed from Spike's grasp.

"I have to check supper. But go ahead and tell them Spike."

"Well see, it was like this," the blonde male began. "I had just got off work and came home, wanting nothing more than a hot shower…"

***** 

Dinner progressed nicely. Buffy had been right about Dawn and Eva being the great tension breakers. The teen babbled on about college life. And Max had been right about Angel. He was not overly impressed at being saddled feeding his child the cut up, sauce covered spaghetti. Eva enjoyed everything though. Spike enjoyed her aim, even if he did get a little splattered on impact. It was all going swimmingly, until dessert, when Max finally brought up a point from months before. 

"So Spike," she began casually. "When are we going on our little date?" Her laugh was drowned out by four angry voices yelling "What!?!" in concert. "Oh, should I not have phrased it that way?" she asked artfully. She tilted her head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. "Perhaps I meant to say, our little entrepreneurial exercise?"

Spike sat back a moment, heedless of Buffy's simmering glare as he tried to recall when he might have made a date with Max. And then it came to him. "Oh right. That!" he chuckled. 

"What that?" Buffy demanded, her fingers tightly gripping the fork she was seriously debating stabbing into her fiancé's hand. Angel wasn't too much different, although he had to be gentler, as it was his daughter he was holding. 

"It was just after the wedding," Max supplied. 

"Nothin' bad" Spike broke in quickly. Angel frowned at him, but Buffy appeared caught up for a moment, until she turned to Spike and smacked him lightly on the arm. 

"You're going gambling!" she snarked at him. "What did I tell you about that?" she demanded huffily. "Spike we don't have the money for you to be gambling."

"Not my money luv," he answered smoothly. 

"Yeah," Max chimed in. "I still owe him fifty bucks."

"Okay, that's fine," Buffy agreed easily. "But that still doesn't explain why Spike would try to go gamble with it."

"Not me," he grinned widely, pointing across the table. "Her." Buffy looked at Max, then at Spike and realized that once again, she'd jumped to a dumb conclusion. Well, not so dumb when one took into consideration Spike's former vices. At least he wouldn't need kittens this time. 

"Okay, Max wants to gamble," Buffy sighed. "But why would you go?"

"For the weddin' luv," he smiled shyly. "Gotta pay for it somehow." Her face softened visibly and she nodded.

"You should go too Buff," Dawn chimed in pertly. "You need a night out."

"No, that's okay Dawn," she tried to deny. But Dawn was right. She hadn't been out and about since her last Friday evening with the girls from work, which was a while ago, since she'd begged off the last few weeks. 

"And Angel could go too," Dawn continued loudly, overriding her sister's protests. "And I could baby-sit." Max laughed again as the teen's eyes lit up. She turned to her husband. 

"That could be fun," she implored. He stared down into her eyes for a moment, helpless against her sincerely entreating gaze. 

"All right," he sighed, giving in. He'd thought dinner was going to be tough, but it had gone fairly well. What was another night? "When would we go?"

"Saturday night would be the obvious choice," Dawn answered quickly. "You could pick Spike up after he gets done work and head out. I don't have to work until Sunday afternoon, so I'm free."

"You've got this all figured out, don't ya Nibblet," Spike grinned at his little sister. She nodded smartly. 

"Okay," Buffy agreed. "Saturday it is." She glanced around at the others nodding their consensus. 

"Well, since that's settled," Dawn chirped. "My rate is ten dollars an hour, snacks included."

"Dawn!"


	20. Back To Bliss

Essence Of The Heart

Restive Nature

Rated NC-17

Chapter Twenty

Back To Bliss

"Is everyone ready to party?" Dawn demanded loudly as she and Buffy strolled through the entrance to the Hyperion. Fred, Gunn and Wes glanced up, took in the two women and then disinterestedly went back to whatever they had been working on. Buffy tried to stall her snigger as Dawn's face fell. But it said a lot. Either the AI crew was too sedentary in their dealings with new excitement coming along. Or they were so deep in work that they hadn't the time for the exuberance of the teen. Buffy wondered if it wasn't a little bit of both. But Dawn was determined not to be ignored. She flounced over to the counter separating them from the others and rhythmically tapped her fingers on the edge. Wes glanced up once more, staring at the teen.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely of her, even as he shared a smirk with Buffy over her head.

"Yeah," Dawn grinned up at him. "I seemed to have developed this growth. Really nasty thing too. Rides around on my ass all day, telling me that my grades could be better, I should get a better job, I have weird friends and that I don't spend enough time with it."

"Ah yes," Wes sighed dramatically, looking up at the ceiling wistfully. "The dreaded demon of doom, clings to others as a way of bolstering it's own self-esteem. Often seems too good to be true in the beginning, but rapidly fades to a point of narcissistic posturing while putting others down. I believe it's more commonly referred to as Jason in its current persona?"

"Got it in one," Dawn giggled. Wes leaned his elbows on the counter, moving nearer the teen.

"Do you know what works wonders on this particular demon?" he whispered conspiratorially. Dawn leaned forward as well, the wry grin still firmly in place and shook her head. "There seems to be a secret magical incantation that when repeated as long as necessary, renders the demon powerless. The incantation is most effective when applied along with various activities. Would you like to hear about them?"

"Oh yeah!" More than one voice joined Dawn's.

"Well, you see, whenever this demon rears it's ugly head and begins it's draining blather, simply repeat 'whatever' and then implement a routine of ignoring the demon and when the demon begins to try to cling more tenaciously, engage in a routine of having fun without it. I assure you, if you do this, especially with other young people, it will strike the demon down!"

By the end of his impromptu speech, he nearly had Dawn rolling on the floor in stitches. The older folk were grinning, appreciating something they didn't see very often, the emergence of Wes' dry humor. Buffy took in her sister, then whispered to her former Watcher, "good one. How'd you figure that out?"

"Hmm, Willow's been in the mood to share," he sighed. Buffy perked up and glanced around.

"Speaking of Wills, she here?"

"Cordelia took her shopping," Fred provided softly.

"The universal cure-all it seems," Wes grimaced.

"Good ol' Cordy," Buffy chuckled. "Faithful 'til the end."

"Quite," Wes agreed. He was prevented from saying more as the door of the basement was flung open.

"Hey, you made it," Angel called out as soon as he'd seen their guests. Dawn had finally recovered from her bought of laughter. She looked eagerly behind Angel but saw no sign of Max or the baby. Angel noticed and gestured absently. "They're downstairs. Why don't you go down so Max can show you where stuff is?" Dawn nodded and headed for the stairs. He waited until the door had shut behind her before turning back to Buffy. "So what was so funny?"

"Wes was cheerin' the girl up," Gunn provided.

"Yeah," Angel murmured sympathetically. "We heard about Jason."

"Ah, she's young," Buffy chirped, shrugging genially. "She'll get over it. Besides, she dumped him. It's not her fault the guy doesn't want to let go."

"You can't blame him either," Wes grinned. "Dawn is quite a remarkable young woman."

"True," Buffy smiled again at him, then turned back to Angel. "So is Max about ready to go? Spike will be off in less than an hour."

"In a few," Angel assured her. "Eva's sleeping now, but she has the tendency to wake up about one am and want to play. Max is probably just making sure Dawn knows her entire medical history, who to call in descending order, where to reach us, good hiding places in case something demonic happens to show up, how to call a cab should she need to get out of the hotel, how to dial 911…" he trailed off to suck in a lung full of air. Buffy giggled.

"A little obsessive?" she teased, pushing down the feelings of jealousy and inadequacy that naturally came up for the other woman.

"Not at all," Max called as she made her way into the lobby. "You should have seen the list Angel left."

"Bad?" A roll of Max's eyes was her only answer.

"Shall we go?" Angel asked quickly. Without waiting for a reply, he began ushering the women towards the back, where the car was parked. He turned his head back to his group; "you know how to reach us if you need to." They left to the various assents and assurances that all would be well.

"Oy!" Spike groaned as beer foam ran down over his hand. He righted the glass quickly, allowing the liquid to even out and grabbed up a towel to wipe off the sides of the glass before presenting it to the bloke before him.

"Problem?" Lorne asked softly. Spike shrugged.

"Just thinkin' when I should be pourin'," Spike muttered. Lorne waited patiently, knowing that if it was bothering Spike enough, he'd eventually spill the beans. And he was right. "Goin' out tonight. Me, Buffy, Max and Angel."

"Heavens above!" Lorne chuckled. "The end is near!"

"Ha ha," Spike sneered.

"Not looking forward to it?"

"Well I would, I guess, if it weren't for the fact that I'm barely gonna have any fun, what with the poofter bein' there," Spike whined.

"Oh, your little gambling date?" Lorne asked. He waved a hand dismissively. "Wouldn't worry about it. Angelkins doesn't gamble. He's more likely to sit and glower at anyone that gets too near that peach of a wife of his."

"And that's just my point," Spike sighed. "I'm the one she's gonna be gamblin' with."

"Ah, just relax," Lorne shrugged. "And remind him, that at the end of the night, she'll be going home with him. If he can't deal, then it's his problem, not yours."

"All right, all right," Spike growled, throwing the towel he'd been holding back onto the counter. "I swear, you an' Buffy must have attended Pep Talk 101 together." Lorne just laughed and headed off to greet some new customers. Right behind which, were the objects of his love, friendship and consternation.

Max and Angel had talked with Lorne while Buffy delivered a change of clothes to her fiancé. Things had been a little forced, slightly tense on the drive to the little tucked away casino Max knew about. Spike had taken the initiative of nudging Buffy into the backseat of Angel's convertible, then diving in after her. There was little to talk about on the drive over, other than shoptalk. But when they finally entered the club, they perked up.

"Okay, where to first?" Max asked gamely. She eyed Spike, who shrugged.

"Don't matter to me," he smirked. "I'm just an innocent bystander."

"Ooh, do the roulette thing honey," Angel grinned. Even knowing of her genetically enhanced skills, he'd still been amazed by her prowess at predicting where the little ball would fall. Max grinned back at him and gestured towards the money-changing counter to their right. Spike raised his eyebrow a bit as she changed over five hundred dollars. She caught the look and smiled coqutteishly.

"Some for you and some for me," she explained unnecessarily, as she divvied up the chips she'd been given, each one bearing the stamp of the club. "Okay, we'll hit the roulette table first. Approach it from the other side, make a few small bets that differ from mine. Don't always bet the same as me, but do for the most part follow my lead. We can only stay so long or they'll get suspicious. Then we'll move on to another table. Got it?" There were nods of approval.

"What about Angel and I?" Buffy quizzed. Max was already shaking her head.

"Too many players, too much suspicion," she replied tightly. "But if you want to play the slots…" she trailed off, waiting for their decision, but neither of them wanted to miss out on her little mission. "All right, let's move out." Buffy smothered a giggle as she watched the women sashay her way over to a table lightly populated with an assortment of people.

"Oh my God Angel," she tittered. "You married Riley."

"I did not!" he protested immediately, his face covered by a deep red blush. He turned to watch his wife, slowly coming to the realization that perhaps she did have a few traits in common with the beefed up soldier boy. He shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge those disturbing thoughts in his mind. "Okay, so maybe she can be a little militaristic. But hell, she's a lot sexier than he ever was."

"Oh yeah," Spike agreed quickly, also taking in the swaying of the brunette's hips as she inserted herself at the table beside a large, balding man dressed in a cheap suit. "Ow!" he yelped as he was smacked in both arms.

"Quit watching my wife," Angel growled, although there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yeah, cut it out," Buffy mimicked her former lover on Spike's other side. She sighed as her fiancé grinned down at her, remembering their talk before about the temptation other people presented. She looked after Max, slightly calculating, then back at Spike. She knew there was nothing to worry about there. Spike was hers and Max was devoted to Angel. If anything, Spike seemed to regard her in the same way he did Willow. "Come on, let's go." She nudged Spike and then followed Angel through the crowd to watch as Max began to run her own game on the wheel.

"Watch her," Angel instructed softly. Buffy did so and easily saw the rapid calculations Max was making with her eyes alone before setting a few chips on the table. The little ball bounced over the grooves and rigid metal until finally coming to a halt on the exact number she had picked. There were a few cheers for her as she raked in the winnings. The wheel began to spin around once more and the people held their collective breath, but Max won again. And again and again.

Buffy began to get bored quickly. She nudged Angel's arm, waiting until he'd bent slightly over to hear her over the noise of the crowd. "I'm going to go get a drink."

He nodded, "want me to go with you?" She shrugged, leaving it up to him. She headed to the bar, unsurprised that he was right behind her. She took a seat and waited until she had the bartender's eye. She ordered a Long Island iced tea and Angel waved the man away, since he was the one driving. Her drink was delivered and paid for before she turned back to her friend.

"They look like they're having fun," she commented, barely glancing back at their respective loved ones. Angel glanced at them as well, taking in their smiling faces on opposite sides of the table. He turned to face Buffy.

"While you on the other hand," he murmured softly, "look miserable."

Her head snapped up. "Do I?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do," he assured her gently. She grimaced and took a sip of her drink. "Do you want to talk about it."

"It," she chuckled darkly. "Not it. Many things. Many, many things all coming together to play havoc with my life."

"Like what?"

"Oh, work, the wedding, strange dreams," she stopped hastily, throwing him a concerned glance, but he ignored it. He just waited. Buffy sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. She stared at the glass between her hands, rubbing a finger over the condensation around it. "We went to a fertility clinic," she admitted. But still he was silent. "Got tested."

Angel waited still, but she was quiet. "And?" he finally prompted.

"It's not Spike," she murmured, then took a longer pull of the beverage.

"Oh Buffy, I'm-!"

"Don't!" she spoke softly, but harshly. "Just don't say you're sorry. Or that it'll be okay. Or that it's better that I know now. I mean I don't know. Not for absolutely one hundred percent for sure. But still. It's not Spike, so it's gotta be me, right?"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Angel asked, focusing on that rather than any empty platitudes he could offer. She frowned.

"My test results haven't come back yet."

Angel simply nodded; knowing this was one area that he couldn't help her with. It was something she and Spike had to work out and deal with on their own. "So, strange dreams, huh? Prophetic ones? Something bad coming?"

Before she could answer, Spike interrupted, hugging his fiancée from behind. "Hello my lovely," he sang in her ear. Buffy pasted on a grin and turned on her stool to see what had him so happy. He showed her the pile of chips that had grown considerably already. "We're almost up to five hundred already."

"That's great," Buffy smiled, including Max, who'd appeared beside Angel. "What next?" she asked of the brunette woman.

"Mm, Angel, could you scope the blackjack tables for me?" she implored. He nodded and stood. "Some of the dealers have started using those damn machines to shuffle. I need one still doing it freestyle before they deal."

"All right," he nodded and set off. Max took his seat and quickly ordered a beer.

"So who's Riley?" she asked of both of them and giggled when she heard a muttered 'stupid wanker' from Spike.

"Ex-boyfriend," Buffy supplied, then her eyes went wide. "I can't believe you heard that!"

"Eh, genetically enhanced hearing," she shrugged. Then smiled her thanks at the bartender as she paid for the beer. "Actually, that's the one thing that sometimes sucks about this time." They waited for her to explain. "Always gotta remind people how different I am."

"Yeah, I guess that would suck," Buffy agreed. She'd been so used to everyone around her knowing that she was the Slayer that it was tough to be around people who didn't know, in case something slipped. Everyone else was probably used to Max's abilities, but she and Spike hadn't spent enough time with her to know. Buffy could almost think of Max as another Slayer, but somehow the woman just didn't seem to fit that mold, having a personality completely separate and unique. "Do you miss them sometimes?" she asked politely.

Max sighed. It wasn't the first time someone had asked that. "Yeah, I do." She rested her head in her hand as she focused on the woman. Spike was listening just as avidly, but some things were just easier to share with a woman. "I wonder how Joshua is doing, if he's still painting. I wonder if Logan found somebody, how Eyes Only is doing. I wonder if my siblings ever found their way to TC. Yeah, I think about them. I miss them."

"But you've got a lot here too," Buffy pointed out, pleased when the other woman perked up.

"Yeah, definite compensation there," she chuckled as she caught sight of Angel weaving his way back to them.

"Fourth table from the left," he informed them, then glanced down at his wife. "Although it's a woman dealing."

"Thank God," Max sighed as she stood up from the stool, snagging her beer with one hand, the chips with the other. "That leaves me able to talk, instead of oozing the appeal."

"That's right," Angel growled against her temple. "Save that appeal for me."

"Damn straight!" she cheered then gestured to her partner in crime. "Come on Spike." The blonde man wiggled his eyebrows playfully, gave Buffy a peck on her cheek and then nearly skipped off to join in the fun that was to be had.

"I swear he's like a little kid," Angel laughed as he took over his stool again. Buffy simply nodded. "So, you were saying before, dreams? Anything I need to know about?"

Buffy shook herself, trying to get back to the conversation that had been interrupted only moments before. Oh, right. Her dreams. "Not really," she hedged. But Angel had a slightly mulish look on his face. She debated internally, wondering about the wisdom of sharing her recent revelation over his son.

"What is it Buffy?" he cajoled softly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I'm not sure I can," she murmured back. And instantly realized it was the wrong thing to say. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a warning hand. "It's not that easy Angel. This has to do with more than just me. Other people are involved."

"Why don't you just give me the basics, and I can decide for myself if it's worth hearing about."

Buffy inhaled deeply, wondering how to get him off the subject. But she wasn't sure she'd be able to. He'd had a long time to develop patience. Knowing this, she gave in slightly. "It's about Connor," she whispered. And instantly regretted it. Confusion marred his face and he turned away from her, staring at his own reflection for long moments, as if debating whether to ask her or not.

"You know about Connor," he finally ground out. "All this time I knew you knew about him. But every time I wondered how that was possible, something else came up. I kept meaning to ask you about it later, but I'd always forget. As if something were deliberately pushing it from my mind, making me forget." He turned to her, anguish written clearly in his face. "How do you know about Connor being my son?"

"Because… because, in a way, Connor is my son too," she replied nervously.

"So, what's the limit tonight?" Max asked with a smile as she and Spike threaded their way over to the table Angel had designated. "How much do you want me to win for you?" she clarified for him, as he looked thoughtful. A calculating grin crossed his face.

"As much as possible," he retorted and was rewarded with a full, throaty laugh.

"My kind of guy," she giggled.

"Yeah, if only we'd met way back when," he sighed mournfully. "What a pair we'd have made."

"Oh, you mean if by luck I'd gotten here somewhere between Dru, Harmony and Buffy? Somehow I don't think I'd have had much window of opportunity." She slid into an empty seat at the blackjack table, setting her cache before her as Spike leaned against the open area to her left.

"Ah, that ditz was just a way to pass the time," Spike dismissed with a shrug, as he passed along his winnings to add to hers. He figured they could divvy them up again later.

"I'm assuming you meant Harmony?" Max eyed him sternly. "Cordy told me stories about her."

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. He could just imagine what the former cheerleaders were like together when Harmony had fled Sunnydale and honed in on LA. "Ah, let's not go there."

"So she's definitely in the category of not being missed?" Max shrugged. It didn't matter to her one way or the other. She knew well enough when to leave it alone though. "So how are things going for you?" she asked as she watched the woman shuffling the cards, the suits and card order settling in her mind as the woman dealt out the hands.

"They're goin'," Spike grimaced, then quickly masked his dissatisfaction. But Max caught it anyway.

"Just not the way you want it to?"

"Hell, when does life ever go the way you want it to?" he demanded shortly. "You should know that."

"Hmm," she nodded. "I got that pounded into my head a number of times. Hit me!" Her assertion startled Spike until he realized that the game was well under way. He watched as Max revealed her cards, higher than the house, winning back quite a bit. For a few minutes, the only sound registering in his mind was the slapping of the plastic coated cards as they mixed together. "So what's bugging you?" she asked of him finally.

"Oh, lots of stuff I guess," Spike grunted.

"Let me guess," Max grimaced, though whether it was over the cards or their discussion, Spike wasn't sure. "Buffy is upset about this whole baby thing, the wedding is getting closer and she's starting to freak out about it and there's a ton of stuff going on that's distracting her?"

"How the hell did you know?" Spike demanded, torn between amazement, anger and embarrassment. Max grinned up at him and lifted one shoulder gracefully.

"I'm a woman," she replied mysteriously, and then took pity on him. "I simply put myself in Buffy's shoes. She wants a baby. I assume you do too," she waited for his affirmation. "She doesn't have one, making her worry. That's one thing. Two, planning a wedding is always stressful, and she's probably got a touch of cold feet. Three she's still trying to care for her sister, do well at work so she won't get fired, go out at night to do her thing and keep up things with you, her friends… man it makes me tired thinking about it like that." She chuckled but Spike just looked thoughtful. She paused in her play for a moment to rest a hand comfortingly on his arm.

"She doesn't want to get married," he admitted in a tiny voice. Max's expression changed not one little bit. "That doesn't surprise you?"

"Not really," Max sighed, holding up a hand to keep him from protesting. "Like I said, I figured she was worried about wedding stuff. God knows I certainly had cold feet before Angel and I were married."

"You did?"

She nodded. "I was kind of pissed at this whole predestined thing. I kept wondering if I was marrying him because I was in love with him, or because it was what everyone expected."

"But you finally figured it out?"

"Yeah. I think it was a little of both. I was supposed to be with him. Marriage or not was up to us. So I eventually figured out that I was marrying him for love. From what I hear, we've all got somewhere to be. Things we gotta do. It's up to us how we get there."

"Yeah," Spike agreed absently. He wasn't really in the mood for philosophy tonight. "But that's completely different from telling Angel straight out that you don't think getting married is a good idea."

"Oh hell no," she scoffed. "Unless of course, it slipped out during a fight or something. I always say things I don't mean when I'm mad." She chuckled, knowing from the look on his stunned face that that was precisely what had occurred between he and Buffy. "Spike, don't sweat it. In a few weeks, after you and Buff are married, you'll look back on this night and wonder what the hell you were worried about."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself there pet," Spike smiled sadly.

"I am."

"What makes you so sure that we'll be happily married?"

"Because I said so."

"You do realize that you've just jinxed it, don't you?"

"Oh crap!"

Buffy and Angel sat in silence. It had taken nearly half an hour for her to get the whole story out. At least the whole story that pertained to him. She kept parts of Connor's life to herself. Knowing it all would serve no purpose other than to make Angel feel even guiltier than he already did. He'd been stunned to say the least by her revelations. And even now he didn't know how to express the feelings within himself. Although Buffy had a pretty good idea from the tears that he was rapidly blinking back.

"Th-thank you," he finally managed to stammer out. "For what you did, I mean," he clarified gruffly. Buffy rubbed his arm soothingly. "And I'm so sorry. That you were asked to do that. What you had to give up. That you had to find out… what I had done, that way."

"It's okay Angel," she soothed. "It's in the past now." Her eyes grew thoughtful as she stopped stroking. "Although, it might explain a lot about that year."

"That year?"

"After… Willow brought me back," she began haltingly. "Why I was such a mess. I think, given time, I would have been okay. But they pulled me back before I could recover, the way I was supposed to. I wasn't… whole. And it took me so long to learn how to reconnect with people. To heal myself with love, instead of the anger I was feeling."

"I can't even imagine trying to walk around with only half a soul," Angel shuddered.

"I can't imagine walking around without a soul at all," she quipped, "but it happens."

"That it does," he sighed his agreement, listening for the censure behind her words. But there was none. They were silent again for a bit. "You know, sometimes, I want to tell Connor. Tell him that I'm his father."

"But you don't," Buffy ascertained immediately. "You know that's a bad idea, right?"

"Is it really?" he demanded lowly, his face pained. It was clear that this was not the first he'd thought about this.

"You know," Buffy mumbled. "I sometimes wish that Dawn had never known the truth. That she could have gone her whole life without knowing the darker things in life. But she didn't get that luxury. None of us did. All except Connor." She glanced up at him, his full attention on her. "He's got a wonderful family that accepts him completely. He's got good friends that are loyal to him, that matter to him. And even though he doesn't know the truth, he's got you. Isn't it funny that you cut yourself completely out of his life and yet he shows back up."

"Yeah," he grinned wryly.

"I mean, you guys have like, I don't know, a clean slate or something," Buffy chuckled. "A fresh start, with none of the crap to get in the way of being friends. And that's what Connor needs. A friend."

"You know," Angel sighed, "that's pretty much what Max said."

"Smart woman."

"Hey hey hey!" Spike's voice boomed in her ear as he approached swiftly. "Who wants to kiss a millionaire?" he bragged, waving some bills in his fiancée's face. Max followed after him, laughing.

"Damn, I'm good," she called out, "but I'm not that good." She reached her husband's side, giving him a quizzical glance before turning to the others. "More like a thousand-aire."

"Ooh, how much?" Buffy asked eagerly, visions of white tulle and lace dancing in her mind.

"Our share of tonight's profits come to… a little over four thousand dollars," Spike fanned the money in front of her as she grabbed for it. He laughed and held it out of her reach, tilting his head for a kiss instead. She complied until his hands began to slip and then broke off to swiftly grab the money and count it herself. Spike protested weakly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. But Buffy was too caught up in something else to notice. She spun in his arms, her eyes wide as they landed on Max.

"So then that would mean that you made, like…?"

Max shrugged more than used to having money come and go through her hands. "Probably enough to make a dent in Eva's college fund, buy a house, or whatever else comes to mind."

"Ooh, like a nice, really nice wedding gift," Buffy smirked happily, not at all embarrassed in her hinting.

"I think that's a given," Max assured her. Buffy didn't notice the wink Max threw Spike, or the blonde man's gleeful nod.

"So, have we had enough for tonight?" Angel asked, trying not to spoil the mood. But Buffy had given him a lot to think about.

"Yeah, I'd like to go home," Spike agreed, his attention completely on the euphoric woman in his arms. And so it was agreed on.

Half a week later, Buffy tumbled down the steps into Caritas, barely pausing for Marco to check her through the door. His rough hand held her back and she glanced up at him. "What?" she demanded hotly. Knowing the rules, she'd left her weaponry behind and couldn't imagine why he was detaining her.

"Hair," he spoke gruffly, keeping up the bouncer persona, even though he knew Spike had told his fiancée about his true gentle hearted demeanor away from work.

Buffy gaped at him as her hand flew up to straighten her hair. And came into contact with the pair of chopsticks she'd stuck there to hold them up. "Oh yeah," she chuckled, momentarily surprised. She blinked innocently as her hand slowly returned to her side. "But they're just for style."

"Uh huh," Marco laughed derisively. "And they're not made of wood, and you're no Slayer." He spoke the last word quietly, knowing better than to start a riot in the club, which her presence could easily do.

"Oh come on," she scoffed. "I'm not here on business. I came to see Spike."

Marco glanced back over his shoulder at the male Slayer, engrossed in mixing a drink while Lorne nattered in his ear between songs. He turned back to Buffy, a wry grin on his face. "All the more reason for me to take them away." He held out his hand, waiting.

"Oh all right," Buffy gave in with good-natured grumbling. Her mood was too good to quibble over this. "I have other ways of torturing him," she muttered as she slapped the wooden implements into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and settled them in his vest pocket; well aware that she knew he'd return them when she left.

"I have no doubt about that," he winked at her. Buffy smiled back and headed into the lounge area. Her sharp ears heard him mutter under his breath as she went, "and damn if you don't look sexier with your hair down." She paused for a moment, basking in the admiration. But once she caught sight of Spike again, she remembered her true purpose. She hurried towards the bar, ignoring everyone else.

"Spike!" she called out urgently. His head snapped up and a smile lit his features. He immediately dropped his gaze back to what he was doing, quickly finished and slid the drink over to the latest patron. Once the woman had moved away, Buffy took up her position. Spike leaned over the bar to give her a welcoming peck on the lips. It wasn't often that she visited him at work, claiming that her Slayer sense went too crazy for her to handle in this place. Spike's did occasionally, but didn't bother him as badly.

"What are you doin' here luv?" he asked curiously. "Not that you're not welcome."

"My little chica is always welcome," Lorne interrupted idly. "But something tells me that it's quite a bit more than a social call." Buffy eyed him up and down.

"I thought people had to sing for you to see stuff," she remarked back.

"Usually yes," he nodded casually. "But come on, you don't think that after ten years, I wouldn't figure out human's body language? Actually, I had it down in about three days. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect. And baby, I've been practicing a long time. In fact-!"

"Oh give it a rest Lorne," Spike laughed. "She's impressed. I'm impressed. The whole bloody club is in awe of your talents. We bow to the wisdom of-!"

"All right, I get it," Lorne pretended to pout. "I know when I'm not wanted." He sighed heavily and picked up his drink from the bar. He took a step forward, but turned back to the couple. "Oh and Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"You better take the rest of the night off," Lorne giggled impishly. "It seems you're going to need it." And then he sauntered off to greet his next over zealous crooner.

"What did he mean by that?" Spike demanded of the demon's retreating back. He glanced down at Buffy, seeing that she'd dismissed Lorne the moment he'd left their vicinity. "Oh hell! Who am I to argue?" He quickly rounded up his share of the tips, while asking Buffy, "so what's up luv?"

"I just saw the doctor today," she spoke in low tones, but it was enough to make him stop dead.

Spike's heart was thrumming in his ears, making the noise in the rest of the club tone down to a dull roar. He tried to read her expression, but it was as if the last eight years had gone out the window. He felt sluggishly stupid as he worked to figure out the unreadable expression on her face. Was she happy? Sad? Terrified? Pissed off? And then it came to him. It was a mixture of all those and more. Her emotions were running the gamut. And while he couldn't read it in her face, he could see the spark and sparkle in her eyes. "What'd 'e say?" he finally choked out, but she was shaking her head.

"Not here," she murmured and Spike nodded quickly. He shoved the money he'd been holding into his pants pocket and ran to get his coat, which Marco was now holding. With a grin, the bouncer held out his hand to Buffy as she walked by, returning the unimportant chopsticks.

The ride home was silent, but for the loaded tension in the air between them. Buffy led her lover into the living room, pausing only to turn on one lamp. She stopped at the sofa and arranged herself as comfortably as she could. Spike sat gingerly by her side, unsure as to what the news could possibly be. He'd already figured out that it wasn't as horrible as Buffy had been expecting, yet it wasn't the best either. Finally, he just needed it out in the open.

"What did 'e say?" he repeated.

Buffy sighed, trying to remember all the meaningless medical jargon the doctor had spewed. It made little sense to her but from the tone it was delivered in was sensible to her. She figured that as long as the doctor knew what he was talking about, then that was good enough for her. "Okay," she began, "he said a lot of stuff, so I'll just give you the gist of it."

Spike watched her carefully, seeing her take in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He had angled his body towards her and now reached out his hand towards her. She smiled down at the long fingers snaking their way towards her and responded in kind. Once their fingers were entwined, she glanced up at him, almost shy.

"I'm okay," she admitted, smiling broadly at the look of pure relief that lanced through him. But then realized that she couldn't deny what else the doctor said. "Well, for the most part."

"What does that mean?" Spike cocked his head towards her, the sudden hope that flared in his chest burning out in an instance.

"Okay," Buffy prepared herself for the mini-lecture she was going to deliver. "Remember all the tests that Dr. Ferguson did on me?" He nodded. "Well, one of them gave him the results he was looking for." He was about to ask what, but she forestalled him by holding one slim finger in the air. "Apparently, and this is his theory, not mine, the stabbing played a major role in our problem."

"The stabbing?"

"It did some internal damage," she confirmed. "The doctor said that it slashed my right ovary. He asked how big the blade was. I told him and he showed me. The scar is really small. He said that he had considered going in to repair the tissue damage if he could, but it looked like it was slowly healing itself. But in the meantime, the damage from that was enough, that I would be ovulating only every other month."

"An' that's it?" Spike asked, visibly stunned. It all sounded so simple. But the way her head was hanging slightly, he knew there was more. He reached out, stroking her hair, pushing the silky strands back so he could tilt her face up to his. Surprisingly, she wasn't crying, as he'd expected. "What is it luv?"

"Oh, it's just," she groaned and pulled her face away, but didn't let loose his hand. "I feel so stupid. I mean, the doctor told me when I first started, but I didn't pay any attention."

"Pay attention to what luv?" Spike sighed. "Kind of need the whole story here."

"Um," Buffy bit her lip. Her head dropped again, still uncomfortable with certain aspects of her femininity in relation to being forthrightly discussed. "When I started on the pill." Spike nodded. "The doctor told me that it can take a while for my body to get back in synch and be ready, well to have kids when I went off them."

Understanding dawned in Spike's eyes. "And that's it, right? That's everything?"

"That's it," Buffy confirmed, exhaling forcibly. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

"Not stupid," he chuckled. "Hell, no one mentioned that at all. We're surrounded by all these geniuses and no one even thought about you goin' off the pill."

"That's true," Buffy perked up a little. "Okay, suddenly not feeling so dim."

"So what's the plan then?"

Buffy understood immediately. "Doctor Ferguson said that it can take up to two years after going off the pill before I get pregnant. And he figures that at the rate I'm going, my ovary will be healed up by then. But he wants to see me again in six months to check on that."

"Okay," Spike nodded. This was definitely workable. "So we're still planning on a baby? Just not immediately?"

"If you still want to," she confirmed shyly. Spike stood swiftly, pulling her to her feet. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her up to their bed, to convince her just how much he still wanted to.


End file.
